Just One of the Boys
by Poey
Summary: Alexandra Kidd's life was in turmoil, but when she is offered a spot as the only female on the cast of Jackass, things seem to be looking up. But how will she deal with the pain of her troubled past while she is trying to sort out her feelings for her Jackass costar, Johnny Knoxville, who is engaged to another woman? Read and find out!
1. Ride To California (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter One: Ride To California (Alex)_

I was always one of the boys. I drank like the boys, I swore like the boys, and I did the stupidest shit, just like the boys. I don't know why I didn't like lipstick and skirts like normal girls, but I didn't. I don't know why I couldn't just play with Barbie dolls and paint my nails pretty shades of pink like all the other girls, but I just couldn't. Shopping made my skin scrawl and I would sucker punch anyone who tried to come at me with a mascara applicator. I tried on the frilly skirts my mother bought me and I attempted walking in her hand-me-down heels, but they made me feel awkward and out of place. My mom would just have to face it; I wasn't girly.

My mom—Autumn Kidd—never cared that I wasn't feminine. She was one of those free spirits. She let my brother and me do whatever we wanted while we were growing up. She said she wanted us to have the freedom that she never had when she was young. She came from this really religious family in South Carolina. Her dad was a priest and her mother was a teacher. She never told me a lot about her parents, but she told me once that they were always scrutinizing her and they never gave her any room to breathe. Because they kept her on such a tight leash, she was always looking for ways to escape. Whenever she got the chance to get out of the house she took it. She would do things just to spite her parents. They were oblivious to the fact that she was becoming so reckless. She would sneak out of the house regularly, but she never got caught. She would come home drunk, but she always slipped into her room before her parents could see her. But all that partying she was doing eventually caught up with her. Autumn couldn't hide her wild lifestyle forever. When she got pregnant, there was no hiding that.

She was only eighteen when she realized she had gotten knocked up. She was probably scared, confused, and ashamed. She said there was no way she could have told her parents about the baby. They would have been so angry with her. She was afraid they would have forced her to give the baby up for adoption, which Autumn didn't want to do. She wanted to keep her baby and take care of it herself. Of course, it was going to be hard, but she thought she was mature enough to do it. But still, she couldn't bring herself to tell her mother and father about her pregnancy. So a couple of weeks after she realized she was having a baby, she ran away. She didn't tell anyone. Not her parents, not her friends, and not the baby's father. She was doing all of this on her own. In her mind, that was her only option.

My mom must have been really brave to have done that. Her parents weren't going to accept her after they found out about her wild lifestyle and unintended pregnancy, so she left. She wanted to raise her own child. It was her baby, not her parents'. They had always tried to control her and she knew they would want to control her baby, too. That wasn't the life she wanted for her child. So she gathered up all her money, which wasn't much, and she snuck out during the night. She didn't have a car, so she jumped on the first bus she could get on. She just rode the bus for days, getting off when she ran out of funds. Where did she end up? The city that never sleeps—New York City.

My mom found it hard to adjust to life in the fast paced city. Compared to her mundane life in South Carolina where she lived in a small religious town, New York was completely foreign. The people were different, the buildings were different, and the weather was different. Everything was different. And in this strange city where everything was new to Autumn, she had no one she could depend on. She would have to fend for herself. So she found some shitty apartment in Queens and started renting it out, struggling to make ends meet. She would take whatever job that was offered to her. She began saving up the money she earned while waiting tables at a small restaurant. She would need that money to take care of her baby, whose arrival was fast approaching. She never heard from her parents and she wasn't sure if it was because they couldn't find her or because they didn't want to. But it didn't matter why her parents weren't in her life, it only mattered that they were letting her live her life and raise her child on her own. That was all she ever really wanted, and now that she had it, things finally made sense. And just as she began adjusted to life on her own, she went into labor.

My mom says the day she gave birth to her son was the happiest day of her life. I find that hard to believe. On that day, her life was changed forever. She was going to have to work harder to take care of another life. She was going to have to constantly worry about another person. How was that something to celebrate and be happy about? Maybe it is some maternal switch that turns on in your brain, but I still can't wrap my mind around it. I wonder if she ever regretted leaving her parents' house. They could have provided more for Autumn and her baby than she could on her own. They could give her son a stable home environment in a safe area. Queens is probably one of the last places any parent would want to raise a child, with its high crime rates and crowded schools, but a small apartment in Queens was all Autumn could afford. Things would have been easier for her if she had just stayed with her mother and father and let them raise her son. But is what's easiest always the best? It isn't in my mother's eyes.

So my mom gave birth to a baby boy. She named him Solomon Kidd. He got her last name because his father was never involved in his life. Solomon's dad probably didn't even know he _was _a father because my mom never told him. She didn't want him involved in her son's life. She didn't want anyone involved in her son's life. She wanted to raise him on her own, and whether that was a smart decision or not, that is what she did. This meant she would have to work twice as hard as any other parent would, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make in order to finally be independent.

She said she couldn't have asked for a better son than Solo. That was what she called him—_Solo. _She said the nickname fit him perfectly. Solo was always a leader, always doing his own thing. He was independent and determined, but he was still always calm and laidback. He was always willing to help someone if they needed it, but he would always stand up for what he thought was right. He looked a lot like our mom, too. He had her soft features and her blonde, curly hair. Even his eyes were blue like hers. He was an adorable little kid and he was always well mannered. I guess Autumn was right—what more could a mom want out of a son?

Needless to say, no matter how awesome your kid is, raising a child at eighteen on a waitress's paycheck is still a hard thing to do. Bills were piling up and my mom didn't know what to do. When there was no food in the fridge and her son was hungry, she didn't have anywhere to turn. She refused to go back to South Carolina and all the money she had saved up had been spent paying bills and rent. She didn't know what to do. So she did one of the stupidest things she could have done. She found some man to depend on. She started dating some guy she worked with named Jude, quickly roping him so that he might pay a bill or two for her. She said it wasn't like that; she told me that she really loved him. I can't believe that. She just loved having a little more financial freedom in her life. I guess in the back of her mind she was always thinking of ways to get enough money to support her son and she would go to any low to take care of Solo. I am not sure if that is pathetic or if it is really honorable.

So Jude moved in with Autumn and Solo. They were like the perfect, happy family that everyone wants. The bills were getting paid and Autumn didn't have to worry about having enough money to afford rent. Solo was too young to care about who his mom was dating, but by the time he was three, Jude wasn't only dating Autumn. He was engaged to her. Things were really getting better for Autumn. But nothing can stay good for that long. After a while, everything got fucked up again. Autumn got pregnant with her second child and Jude wasn't happy that he was going to have a little kid of his own. He freaked out. He just wasn't ready to be a father. He wasn't ready to be married with children. He was barely twenty-one years old. He was still young and he was too immature to deal with all these new responsibilities. So he did what any other scumbag would have done in his situation. He left Autumn without even saying goodbye.

So there was my mother. Twenty-one years old with a three year old son and another kid on the way. Things went from really good to rock-bottom really quickly. Jude had left her with a huge mess and there was no fixing any of it. And as stupid as she was for making the same mistake twice and getting pregnant again, she would have to keep strong. She began working double shifts and even got another job to get more money. She had to get ready for this second baby. And after nine months, she went into labor for the second time. This time she gave birth to a little girl. Alexandra Kidd. Me. The family was finally complete. Or should I say the circus got its final act.

I didn't look that much like my mother. I had her blonde curly hair and her blue eyes just like Solo did, but other than that, I guess I looked like my dad. I didn't really know because I never met Jude. After he left, he never looked back. He must of left town because my mom never saw him at work again. But she never really looked for him. What was the point in trying to find someone who didn't want to be found? If he didn't want to be a part of his child's life—a part of_ my life_—that was his decision. I wondered if my mother ever resented me a little when she looked at me. I was the reason Jude left. Of course, I was too young to care about why my dad left my mom. Growing up, it never really mattered that I didn't have a father figure in my life. I never had a dad and as they say, you can't miss something you've never had. Besides, a lot of kids in our apartment building didn't have their dads around. It was just the way things were and there was really no point in getting upset over it.

Life wasn't easy when we were growing up. We didn't have much, but we had enough. My mom was always working and my brother and I were always at the babysitter's house. But when I was really young, my mom was like my role model. I thought everything she did was right. I thought she was perfect. She was so pretty and quiet and hardworking. I used to want to be like her in every way possible. I wanted to look like her and act like her and sound like her. She was so graceful and frail—like a porcelain doll. I wanted that grace and that beauty, but I knew I would never posses it. I didn't have it in me. I didn't have a whimsical voice and light footsteps. And as I grew older, I realized I didn't want those things. I realized that Mom wasn't as perfect as I thought she was. There were days when I didn't see my mother because she worked straight through the day. She would come home with tired eyes and a bitter attitude. Still, it is sad watching someone breaking their back for you and knowing there is nothing you can do to help. Solo and I were both too young to get jobs of our own, but we tried to be good so our mom didn't have anything else to stress about. We had to mature faster than most kids did. We worried about if the rent was going to get paid or if we were going to have enough money to go shopping for groceries. By the time we were five, we had experienced what if felt like to be desperately hungry, freezing cold, and alone. But we all made it through. We always made it through. I think Solo is the one I can thank for that. He was so levelheaded; he always kept me calm. When we were kids I was really close to Solo. He was almost like my parental guardian when our mom wasn't around, even though he was only three years older than me. Life was simple back then. But as we grew up, everything seemed to change. Mostly, I changed.

Solo didn't change that much. He was still really down to earth. He knew his place in the world. He didn't spend his days complaining about the fact that he didn't have new clothes or his own room. He just accepted the fact that his life was a little less glamorous than other peoples'. It wasn't that he didn't want more than he had; everyone _wants_ more than they have, but he never harped on the negative things in his life. In his eyes, there was no point in doing it. He just made the most of what he had. He got a job when he started high school so he could help our mom make ends meet. He was just selfless like that. He was always pretty mature. The only thing he did for fun was skateboard. That was the way we got out all of our stress and frustration. When we were growing up, skating was our lives.

Solo was the one who got me into the sport. I was about seven the first time I saw him skate. There weren't any skate parks in Queens at the time, so Solo and I would just gather in the alleyway behind our apartment building with all the other kids that lived around us and we'd skate together. It was the closest thing we had to entertainment in our lives. The people in Queens didn't have much. Most people didn't have televisions or any other nonessential items like that. There was no way that we could afford real skateboards. We would find pieces of plywood and broken wheels that were tossed out by local skate shops and we made our own makeshift skateboards to pass the time. Sure, our boards were pretty shitty and they would only work for a couple of days max, but it didn't matter. After we started skating, there was no stopping us. We would find a way to skateboard, no matter how crappy our boards were.

Skateboarding was all I did while I was growing up. It shaped my life, in a way. All the kids I skated with—they were my real family. I met some of my best friends while boarding in back alleys. I related to them. We were all in the same boat and we all had similar problems. Some kids had parents who were on heroine and some kids didn't have any parents at all. Being with them made me feel like any problems I had were miniscule. But it was okay because once we got on our skateboards, we stopped worrying about our problems. On some days, we didn't even talk. Going out and skating, it was like a therapy session for all of us. When we were out there, all we had to worry about was mastering the next trick or working on ways to make our homemade boards last longer. Whenever I was stressed or angry about something that was going on at home, I would just throw myself into skating like adults throw themselves into work. It helped me get by. And skating provided the same escape for a lot of kids I lived around. I know it did for one of my good friends, Cameron Kasey.

Cam was one of the only other girls that hung out with the skaters and me. She was the same age as I was. She had just moved to New York City from Los Angeles. People from Queens were usually pretty territorial when it came to new people moving into town. In most cases, if an outsider showed up in and tried to skate with us, they were going to get ass beat. But no one ever questioned Cam. She was an awesome skater and she had such a chill personality that no one really cared that she wasn't from Queens. Anyone that tried to show up Cam's skating skills got their ass handed to them. She fit right in with the other kids I grew up with. She was a cool chick, but she had her fair share of problems, too. She lived with her dad in the same apartment building as Solo and me. Her mom died when she was little and she had to move to Queens because her dad got into some trouble with drugs out in California. He was trying to avoid some drug charges so he moved to New York, where his case would be lost in the chaotic city. But she never criticized her dad for the bad choices he made. He was the only family she had, so she just accepted him. I always thought that was pretty cool of her.

Cameron was one of my best friends while I was growing up. School was tough in Queens and I was glad I had a friend besides Solo that I could depend on. Going to school in New York City isn't like going to school in South Carolina or California or any other place in the world. Unless you are some rich kid that goes to a private school, life was going to be tough for you. I went to Martin Van Buren High School. The school was overcrowded with students who didn't care about their classes. It was a sorry excuse for a learning environment. There were fights every day. You could buy any drug you wanted outside the cafeteria. Police officers roamed the hallways, trying to stop all the gang activity that was going on. No one took their education seriously around that place. I skipped so many classes that the school started sending letters to my mom saying if I didn't go to class they were going to fine us or something. So I started showing up to more classes, but just like every other kid in Queens, I didn't give a shit. I was getting in fights every week and going to ragers every night. Why would I want to be stuck in a classroom learning about people who died a hundred years ago when I could be out living life? I guess you could say that school just wasn't for me.

The parties in Queens were always amazing. You could get any drug you wanted and all the booze you could drink. I was going to parties with Solo and Cam since I was thirteen. We would sneak out at night and go to some kid's apartment and get wasted. Most times we would pass out and miss school the next day. Maybe I was in with the wrong crowd. Maybe my mom wasn't watching me as closely as she should have been. But I was having fun and I didn't give a fuck about the consequences of my actions. When you grow up in a city where all you hear about is crime, drugs, and violence, chances are you're going to end up like all the other kids do: a druggie without any options in life. But after partying for a while, Solo eventually told me that we needed to cool it. He wanted me to at least graduate from high school. He started to work harder in school and he wanted me to do the same thing. He said he didn't want to turn out like Mom and he didn't want me to either. I felt like it was pretty inevitable, though.

While Solo was pressing me to do better in school and clean my act up, our Mom was doing nothing. She was practically gone. Physically she was there, but mentally, I have no idea where she was. She was just going through the motions of life without actually experiencing any of it. She was like a robot. Days would pass and I wouldn't hear her voice once. She would just disappear into her room with a bottle of whiskey and no one would see her for the rest of the night. The only time I saw her smile was when she was bringing different guys in and out of our apartment, but I guess you could say I wasn't too happy to see my mom was screwing every guy in our apartment building. If it wasn't for Solo, I don't know what would happen to our family. He was like the head of the household. He had a job that he had to balance with his school work and he used all his money to pay the bills that Mom couldn't. He wouldn't let me get a job, though; he said I didn't need to. He said he could handle it. I knew he _could _handle it, but he could have used help. But he refused to take any money from me. He wanted to hold our family together on his own. But no matter how hard he tried, there was an obvious division in our home. Solo was never home because he was always working, I resented our mom and didn't want to associate with her, and Mom just didn't talk to anyone. I spent as much time as I possibly could out of our apartment. I'd sit out on the side of the street with Cam and some other skaters until the police showed up and told us to leave. When Solo wasn't working he would tag along, but that wasn't often. As we grew up, he worked more and more to compensate for our mothers shrinking paychecks. All her money was going to booze, so Solo had to work to pay the bills. On some days, Cam and I would skip school with Solo just so we would have to hang out together without Solo's job interfering. That was when life was fun and carefree. But as they say, all good things must come to an end.

Solo didn't walk at graduation. He did graduate, he just didn't walk. He said it was a waste of time, plus we didn't have enough money for the robe and the graduation cap. Mom wasn't going to go because she had to work and other than me, she was the only family he had. He said there was no point in walking if his own mother wasn't going to be there. I wished he had walked. He deserved it. He had worked harder than any other kid I knew. He was doing well in school and he was taking care of his family. He deserved a little moment of glory when they called out his name and handed him his diploma. Mom was happy that Solo had graduated. She told him how proud she was of him and how she was lucky to have the best son in the world. I thought it was all bullshit. Those were just lines that Hallmark told us we were supposed to say and think, and she was spewing them all with a drunken slur. But I didn't question her because I didn't want to start a fight on the day that Solo was officially out of high school. We should have been celebrating on that day, not fighting.

Solo didn't go to college. He could have easily gone to the school of his choice. He had awesome grades and he could have gotten tons of great recommendations. He was even offered some scholarships, but he turned them all down. He didn't want to go to college, or at least that is what he said. He really just didn't trust that I would be okay living alone with our mother. I hated that he felt like he had to take care of me. I fought with Solo for hours, trying to convince him to apply to some colleges, but he wouldn't budge. His mind was made up and there was no way I was going to change it. He wasn't going to college. I thought he was making a terrible decision, but at the end of the day it wasn't my decision to make. It was his.

The summer after Solo's graduation contained the last normal days of my life. School was out and kids flooded the hot streets of New York, happy to be free from the education system for a couple of months. While some eighteen-year-olds were packing up and getting ready to leave for college, Solo was just continuing to work. I made sure that he was still making time to have fun, though. He spent his free time skating and going to parties with Cam and me. We could be as wild as wanted to be because we didn't have to be at school the next morning and we didn't have a mom breathing down our throats. We were living the life every other teenager would kill to have. Sex, drugs, alcohol—as long as we could scrounge up the money for it, nothing was off limits for us. Of course, Solo still had work to go to. I hated it. Some nights, he got out of work so late. He would have to walk home at three in the morning, all by himself. I always worried about him, fearing the worst every time he had to work at night. Queens wasn't a safe place, especially after the sun went down. But Solo was tough. He could take care himself. He always came home. But one night, he didn't.

There are some things in life that just can't be predicted. Some things are just horrible, plain and simple. There is nothing you can do about it, it just happens and it ruins everything. Like you are just enjoying your day, your weekend, your life, and _WHAM_, out of the blue, major suckage. And not just the crap-I-stepped-in-gum kind of bad, but the hits-you-like-a-meteor-from-outer-space bad. The kind of bad where you can't breathe or think or even remember anything before that moment. I haven't had many moments like that. Maybe one or two in my whole life. But when Solo died, my universe was completely shattered.

That night was hell on earth. I was sitting by the door waiting for Solo to walk into our apartment. It was almost five in the morning. He should have been home by then. Even my mom was awake, waiting beside me, praying for the best. Cam came over, just as worried as we were about Solo. We were all wondering where he was and what could have happened. We just waited because that was all we could do. We waited and waited and waited, but Solo never came home. The only person that arrived at our door was the police officer that was delivering the bad news. I can still remember how my mom wailed. That was the first time I had ever seen Cameron cry. I just wanted to run away from it all. I just wanted to get out of that house and pretend none of that happened. But there was nowhere to run. There are some things that you just can't run from.

The officer tried to tell us what was going on, but it seemed like he was a little confused about what happened. Solo was walking home from work like he did every other night, but tonight was different. Someone was waiting in an alley, getting ready to mug someone. It could have been anybody, but it just happened to be Solo. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. The police officer wasn't sure why the mugger killed Solo. Maybe Solo tried to fight back. Maybe he was angry when he found out that Solo didn't have any money or any items of value. But the guy hit Solo over the head with a rock or something. The officer said that it probably killed him instantly, so he didn't have a long painful death. Like saying that Solo had a quick death made anyone feel better.

No one would ever know what happened to my brother. Solo's death was just one of hundreds that happened in Queens that summer. And just like all the other murder cases, Solo's would go unsolved. It made me sick that the man who killed my brother was walking the streets of New York. It made me sick that I would never know who did it or why they did it. But what made me sickest of all was that Solo was gone and I would never get him back.

I didn't scream the night we found out Solo was dead. I didn't cry. I was in denial. He couldn't be dead. He probably just got held up at work for one reason or another and the cops misidentified the body. It probably happened all the time. These bogus statements got me through the night. It couldn't get me through the funeral, though.

Have you ever been to a funeral? Have you ever sat in a funeral parlor, planning the memorial service? It is fucking sick. They walk you around the room, selling the caskets as if they were new cars. Tears were streaming down my mother's face as we chose the burial box that Solo would be left to rot in. What a morbid thought. My mom had to scrounge together enough money to pay for the casket and the white flowers and the dark drapes, like anyone would care what shade the hangings were. Anger ate away at me.

I wanted to go to Solo's funeral. Cam went and so did a bunch of other people from around Queens. But I couldn't. I couldn't listen to people talk about Solo in the past tense form. I couldn't sit in a room full of sad people and wonder why all I felt was anger. I refused to go. My mom didn't fight me over it. She said it was my choice, but she thought I would regret it one day. I just got angrier at her. How did she know how I felt on the inside? She didn't even know Solo. Even though I was losing a brother—a best friend—she was losing a son who she never truly knew in the first place. If anyone had something to regret, it was her.

I still couldn't bring myself to go the funeral. I stayed home and just screamed. I just stood in the middle of our apartment and yelled and swore and threw things. I broke picture frames and skateboard decks. I smashed a mirror with my fist and I just kept punching it and punching it, letting the reflective surface shatter into a million pieces. My knuckles were white and cut up, covered in blood. But I didn't feel the pain. I just felt numb. I hated that feeling. So I just kept punching the mirror over and over again, wanting to feel something. But still, I felt nothing but pure anger and hatred towards the world. I had been angry before, but I always had someone to talk to. In the past, I could have gone to Solo. But not anymore. That privilege had been taken away from me for no reason at all.

After the funeral was over and the sun had set, I went back to Solo's grave. It had just been covered with fresh soil and a layer of fake grass. I frowned, sitting on my knees in front of his gravestone. I traced the letters of his name with my index finger, stone faced and confused. I wished I had flowers or something to put over his burial spot, but I didn't. A bunch of his friends were at his grave spot, too. They didn't cry, they laughed. They poured beer on his grave, shouting "One last drink for Solo!" Most people would have thought they were acting like a bunch of assholes, but they didn't know Solomon Kidd. He would have wanted it to be this way, with happy people sharing memories of his life. He wouldn't have wanted me to be sad. He would have wanted me to stay strong and keep my head up. But doing that would be close to impossible.

Everything was harder after Solo died. School was harder to get through, it was harder to make ends meet, and it was harder to breathe. I slowly became disconnected with the world around me. I no longer cared about my future might hold. I went out drinking every night, smoking whatever people handed me. Why did it matter if I didn't graduate high school? Who cared if I had a bad reputation? Who cared if I died? I didn't. I didn't want to live. What was the point? By the time I was a senior in high school, I was at one of the lowest points in my entire life because I knew that I was the same age that Solo was when he died—_eighteen_. I didn't want to remember every year on my birthday that I lived another year longer than Solo got to. It was like I was frozen in time, but everyone else in the world was still living. I couldn't bring myself to do anything. My mind didn't work the same way after Solo died. I felt completely numb.

They say time heals all wounds. That is bullshit. Three years had passed and all my wounds were still wide open. Solo's death changed me in many ways. I wasn't that chick who skateboarded with the boys anymore, I was that girl who went downhill after her brother died. I knew it and so did everyone else. Every part of my life got worse. My grades got so low that my principal told me if I didn't do anything about them soon, I wouldn't be able to graduate. So I did do something about it: I dropped out of school.

My mom didn't care that I dropped out of school. She didn't care about anything, but that wasn't new. She had stopped going to work and consequently, she got fired. Rent was overdue and I knew it was only a matter of time until we got evicted. She was drinking a lot—almost more than I was. Isn't that depressing? A mother and daughter both getting wasted to deal with their feelings. I always thought my mother was brave, but I was wrong. She was a coward, just like me. I felt lost. I felt like everyone was leaving me. Solo left me and my mom was practically gone. I felt alone.

But there was one person who always stuck by my side. She was always there no matter how bad I got. It was Cameron. When she heard I dropped out of school halfway through our senior year, she went and did the same thing. She said there was no point in going to school without her partner in crime. So we quit. And we did the only thing it made sense to do. We got on a bus and we left town. We weren't sure where we were going at first. It didn't matter, really. I just wanted to get away from New York City. So Cam made a few phone calls and she said she had some old friends in Los Angeles that would let us rent an apartment from them for cheap. That was as good of a plan as any.

We were young, uneducated, and careless. Cameron got together all the money she could get her hands on and I took all the cash out of my mom's purse, which wasn't much. We packed up all our shit and we just left. It took us days to get to LA. But really, we had all the time in the world. But when we got to Los Angeles, life was different. Compared to New York City, Los Angeles was an incredibly laidback town. It would take me a while to get used to it. Cam's buddies started renting us some shitty apartment in East LA. We were starting out completely fresh. We weren't living the good life, but we were having a lot of fun. LA was different than Queens. People were happier, plain and simple. When you met someone on the street, they would invite you to a party within a couple of minutes. In Queens, everybody was rude and ready to fight, but in LA everyone just wanted to party. So that's what Cam and I did. We spent our days at work and our nights getting trashed with whatever substance we could get our hands on. We did that for years. I did that until Solo's death felt like nothing but a really bad nightmare I had dreamt years ago.

So that was my life. Cam and I fit in with the LA locals like a charm. A lot about our life in California was different than our life in New York. The one thing that was the same was that we still skated. Everything else about my life had changed. But most of all, I had changed. And before I knew it I was a twenty-two year old Los Angeles local, holding a baseball bat and standing on the hood of Jeff Tremaine's car.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"If I give you two anymore free beers I am going to go out of business," said Roy, the bartender at The Backroom, which was one of our favorite spots in Los Angeles. Cam sighed, brushing her hand through her short, chestnut brown haircut, smiling like a dork. It was hard not to give the tomboy whatever she wanted when she gave you that goofy look. The hulking man just shook his head, placing two more bottles of beer on the bar. Cameron and I exchanged smiles and grabbed the bottles by the neck. "Last round," Roy said, "then you two need to get the hell out of here." Though he was trying to intimidate us, Cam and I both knew his threat was hallow. We had been going to The Backroom since the day we moved to LA and Roy had been tending bar there since the seventies. He always looked out for us. He was like our second—well, my first—dad.

"Sure thing, Roy," I said. He just continued to shake his head and Cameron laughed. I looked around the place that I had been attending for years. It was so run down. It wasn't one of those big, fancy, bars people imagine when they think of Los Angeles. This place attracted LA locals that didn't have much money but a lot of time to kill. People like Cam and me. Old concert and movie posters covered the walls and most the chairs wobbled from years of bar fights and other misuse. The place had a certain rustic charm that just made me feel at home. Of course, a normal person would have said it looked like a total shithole that should be condemned, but I didn't agree. In my life, I had seen some places in way worse condition than The Backroom was. My own apartment was in worse condition than this bar was. But that wasn't my fault, really. That was Van's fault.

"Hey, Al, how are you and Van doing?" Cam said, taking a sip from her beer. I rolled my eyes, not wanting to talk about Van. I just shrugged and Cameron nodded her head. Van Maverick was this guy I had been dating for, I don't know, about two years. I met him at the skate shop where Cam and I worked. He seemed like a pretty cool guy when I met him. He came in looking for a new deck and I helped him pick out the one that was right for him. We talked for a while about skateboarding and by the end of the transaction he had given me his number. It wasn't like I was flipping out about getting attention from a guy. In the past years, I had become more comfortable with myself, and as a result I had become a lot more comfortable around guys. I had always been inclined to befriend a guy over a girl, but that was just because most girls I talked to weren't interested in skateboarding or any of the other things that interested me. Talking to guys was easy for me. I wasn't too shy when it came to sex, either—most the time it was completely emotionless for me, anyways. But the idea of dating a guy was a little hard for me. When you dated someone, you had to let them in emotionally. I had problems when it came to bringing my walls down and letting people in.

Although I wasn't initially interested in dating anyone, I couldn't deny that Van had great looks. His hair was dark and curly and his skin was tan from his mother's Hispanic roots. But his eyes—those were what made girls' jealous of me when they saw me with Van. He had his dad's light green eyes and they were gorgeous. It was like when people looked into his eyes, they were transfixed. When I looked for a man, I usually wasn't looking for a longtime commitment; I was just looking for someone that would do for the night. Van had all the qualifications for an awesome one night stand, but I hadn't had a boyfriend in years and getting attention from the guy all the other girls wanted was a good feeling. So I gave him the time of day and after a few weeks we began dating.

Things were great at first. Sure, Van was kind of lazy and he was a bit of a stoner, but who in LA wasn't? So I looked past the fact that the guy was pretty much a total piece of shit and started dating him. After about a year of dating, I moved out of the apartment I shared with Cam and I started looking for a new apartment to share with Van. We found one and moved in together by the end of the month. But I swear to God, the day we moved in together our relationship took a turn for the worse. We fought about everything, from bills to washing the dishes. Every day I found another fault in him. He was such a pothead. He didn't do anything around the house and he could barely hold a fucking job. He was a slacker that still acted like he was a teenager. I was the queen of immaturity, and even I felt mature compared to him. It was like I was his mother, not his girlfriend. But no matter how much we fought, I never ended the relationship. We had been together so long, breaking up would just be…_hard._ I couldn't deal with stress of leaving him right now, and I would feel bad asking Cam to move back in with her. So here I was, stuck living with my boyfriend who I wasn't one hundred percent sure I wanted to be with.

"We didn't break up yet, if that's what you're asking," I said nonchalantly. Cam was always telling me to dump him. She said he was just leeching off me because I was paying most the bills. She was right when she said that—I knew she was right. But I just couldn't bring myself to dump him. Not yet. Cameron nodded, not fighting me over how I should break up with Van. I was glad, because I hated fighting with her.

It was probably half past midnight and in LA that meant the night was just starting. People started wandering into the bar, filling up all the tables and stools in the building. Some people were already drunk and had most likely been thrown out of some other bar so they came to The Backroom. Some people were still sober and were looking for a quick drink to start their night. Either way, I was pretty much familiar with all the people who walked through the doors. That was the way it was in this part of town. Everyone knew everyone. It wasn't like I _wanted _to know every asshole in East LA—believe me, I wish I didn't know most of them, but when you are working in town and going out nightly, you just meet people. They are at the beach and the skate park and the bars. They're pretty much unavoidable to a point. That is just how things tended to work around here.

But there was one guy in the bar who wasn't familiar to me at all. He looked a little older than me and he looked tired as fuck. He was sitting on a stool and drinking beer, staring off into the distance. He looked like he could use about six months of sleep from the dark rings under his eyes. I looked at him intensely, trying to determine if I knew him from somewhere. Maybe I had passed him on the beach and just didn't remember it. It wasn't completely unheard of to see someone from out of town in East LA, but this place just wasn't that much of a tourist hotspot. If you are traveling to California, East Los Angeles is the place they tell you _not _to go to. And even if you did, The Backroom would probably be the last place you would want to go. Still, I looked away from the lone man, deciding he must just be from another part of LA. Most the time the people at The Backroom were less than friendly to outsiders, but he wasn't making a scene or anything, so no one bothered him.

"We should get out of here," Cam said, finishing off her bottle of beer. "We don't have work tomorrow and there are about ten other bars on this street." She was right. We barely ever got a day off from the skate shop, but there was some skating competition going on and all the managers left town to go promote the store. So the skate shop was going to be closed for awhile and Cameron wanted to make the most of it. That probably meant a lot of bar hopping and a few other less than honorable—_or legal_—activities.

"Yeah, let's head out," I said. We jumped off our bar stools, leaving our empty beer bottles on the bar. I took one last look at the unfamiliar man that was sitting at the bar before exiting. I couldn't shake the strange feeling I got when I looked at him. I knew I didn't know him, but I felt like I was supposed to—like he was an old friend that I had forgotten about. I think Cam noticed him too, but she didn't say anything. Maybe I was just being paranoid…

When we got to the parking lot, Cam told me to wait a minute. She sat down on the curb, lighting a cigarette. I sat down next to her, doing the same. We sat there in silence, smoking together. I liked the silence. I think when you are really comfortable with someone you can just sit there in total silence with them and not feel a bit of awkwardness. As lame as it sounds, Cameron was really the greatest friend I could have ever asked for.

"Hey, look at that," Cam said after a minute. She pointed out into the parking lot, a huge grin on her face. I looked in the direction she was pointing, trying to see what was going on that had gotten her so excited. When I finally saw the source of her happiness, my jaw almost dropped. A black Porsche was sitting in the bar's parking lot, all shiny and new.

"Shit," I said, still a little shocked. In this part of LA, you almost never saw a nice car like that. Hell, most people didn't even have cars. What was someone who owned a fifty thousand dollar car doing at a dive like The Backroom? I stood up, walking closer to the car, Cam behind me. No one was in the car; they must have been in the bar already. Then I realized it must have been that guys—the one was sitting by himself at the bar. I threw my cigarette on the ground, stomping it out before putting my hand on the roof of the car. That was probably going to be the last time I ever touched something worth so much money, so I was trying to savor the moment.

"I'll give you fifty bucks," I heard Cam say. I looked at her, a little confused. She was smiling mischievously and I immediately realized what she was up to. "There has got to be a baseball bat or something behind the bar. I'll give you fifty bucks if you smash this car up." There were always random items that could double as weapons behind the bar. In East LA, you never knew when you were going to need one, especially when you were at a bar full of angry, drunk people. I laughed at her proposition, but it didn't take me a second to answer her.

"Go get me a bat or something."

Okay, so some of you probably think it is pretty fucking stupid of me to destroy a fifty _thousand _dollar car for fifty _bucks_, but you guys don't understand what it is like to live in East LA. People are living from paycheck to paycheck, there are drug deals going down on every street corner, and I am willing to bet that most people aren't living the most stable lifestyles. So when someone from out of town shows up with a fancy car and a lot of money, people like Cameron and me tend to get pretty fucking angry. If this guy wanted to rough it in East LA, he was going to. And so was his pretty, black Porsche.

Cameron handed me a crowbar that she found behind the bar. I didn't wait a minute; I took the crowbar and brought it down on the window shield—hard. I laughed, getting on the hood of the car and kicking in what was left of the window shield, glass sprinkling over the leather seats in the car. While I don't recommend you try this at home, I will say that bashing in the window shield of a car that is worth more than your entire life's savings is a great way to relieve stress. "Look what I found!" Cameron shouted as I smashed the shit out of the cars remaining windows. She threw a half-empty can at me. A half-empty can of yellow spray paint, to be more exact. I chuckled. We hit the jackpot.

I grinned wildly, grasping the can of spray paint in one hand and the crowbar in the other. I took one last swing at the car with the crowbar, causing the car alarm to go off. Cameron jumped at the abrupt, loud noise, but I wasn't too worried about anyone in the bar hearing it. It was usually so loud in The Backroom that you couldn't even hear your own thoughts. I just dropped the crowbar to the floor, not paying any attention to the annoying blaring of the alarm. I jumped off the hood of the car and took the can of spray paint, painting racing stripes on the car as Cam watched in amazement. Smiling, I sprayed the words _LOCALS ONLY _on the trunk of the car. We used to spray paint that very phrase all over the back alleys in Queens, so doing it now felt oddly natural.

"Pretty good job," Cam laughed, clapping her hands together dramatically as if she had just watched an opera. "And you did it all in record time," she added, looking down at her watch. I bowed mockingly, dropping my can of spray paint to the ground, laughing with her. But the owner of the car—who had just come out of the bar—wasn't laughing at all.

"What the hell?!" he shouted, running up to us. Cam and I exchanged looks, not waiting another minute. Right when we saw the owner of the Porsche coming out of the bar, we ran. We both grabbed our skateboards, which were out only modes of transportation, and jumped on them, trying to get away as quickly as possible. As we skated away, I heard the car's owner screaming for us to stop, but we just laughed as we skated away. He didn't chase after us; he was probably still in shock, staring at his destroyed car. But in the commotion of escaping from the man, I did manage to get a good look at him. It was the guy I saw sitting alone at the bar. I didn't think about it too long though; when I turned my head, Cam was already twenty feet ahead of me. I wondered if the owner the Porsche even saw her.

"You owe me fifty bucks!" I shouted to Cam, trying to catch up with her as we skated down the sidewalk. She shook her head, telling me too skate faster. I did as she told me to, speeding up as we left the bar's parking lot. Once we were one hundred percent positive that the car's owner wasn't coming after us, we stopped. We sat down on the sidewalk, taking a breather while we laughed about the incident that just occurred. Cameron couldn't stop laughing.

"Did you see the look on his face? He was fucking _horrified!" _She said, smiling from ear to ear. She lit up another cigarette, laying back, still heaving with laughter. She stuck her free hand in her pocket, handing me a wad of bills. "That was fifty bucks well spent! I would pay another fifty to watch you do it again!"

"I think you want us to get arrested," I said, happily taking her money. We had both spent a night or two in jail before, but we never did any serious time. Just a DUI her, a vandalism charge there, but they would always blow over within the week. Just thinking about the idea of doing serious time was enough to make me want to start moving again. I stood up, extending my hand to Cameron who was still lying on the sidewalk. "Come on, get up. That guy might still be looking for us." She chuckled, standing to her feet. We both got on our skateboards, parting ways and going to our separate apartments.

It was about half past one in the morning when I finally arrived at my apartment building. I slowly walked up the stairs, dragging my skateboard up each step. When I got to the door of the apartment I shared with Van, I didn't bother to knock on the door. Seeing as how it was so late, he was probably either stoned out of his mind or asleep. He wouldn't have gotten the door for me anyway. I just put my key in the lock of the corroded door and let myself in.

"Babe, you awake?" I said when I walked into the apartment. All the lights were on, which was strange. He couldn't have been sleeping. I threw my skateboard down, kicking my shoes off and stretching. I rubbed my eyes, looking around the room for him. And then I saw it. There was a little black handbag sitting on the couch, and it definitely wasn't mine. My heart almost stopped as I picked the purse up, staring at it. My mind suddenly started jumping to conclusions. _There is another girl in my apartment—there has to be_. This couldn't be happening.

I clenched my fists together, holding the purse tightly in my hands. I could put two and two together—I wasn't a fucking idiot. I trudged down the hallway that led to our bedroom. I put my hand on the doorknob, not sure if I wanted to see what was on the other side. Holding my breath, I flung the door open and I wasn't surprised at what I found. Van was curled up with some chick. _In our bed._

"You fucking asshole!" I shouted, throwing the handbag at Van's head. He woke up, his eyes suddenly wide with a sense of urgency. The girl woke up too, and she looked at confused as he did, but I wasn't focusing on her. "You are such a fucking prick! I gave you every fucking cent I had! I gave you everything and this is how you fucking repay me?! Get the hell out of here!" I slammed the bedroom door closed, not wanting to hear Van's excuses. I didn't want to see his face. He was a liar and a fucking cheater. I wanted him out of my apartment.

"Baby, wait a second!" Van shouted, pulling on a pair of jeans as he came out of the bedroom, chasing after me. I didn't turn around; I just walked into the kitchen. I needed a drink. "Alex, this isn't what it looks like." _This isn't what it looks like? _How cliché. How fake. I bit my tongue so hard that I could taste blood in my mouth. I couldn't look at him. Anytime I saw him I would think of how calm his face was when he was sleeping next to that whore. Van reached out and grabbed my arm. "Alex, I didn't do anything with—"

"Don't fucking touch me!" I shouted, pulling away from him. He just sighed, putting his hands on his head. He inhaled and exhaled dramatically. "I hope that slut was worth it, Van. You had it made with me, you asshole, and you just threw that all away. I want you out of my apartment. _Now._" I gripped the edge of the kitchen sink, not turning to him when I spoke.Van didn't say anything, but he didn't move either. He just waited, as if I was going to change my mind. I hovered over the sink, turning on the water and splashing it on my face. I felt like it was one hundred degrees in there. When I thought things couldn't get any worse, the phone began ringing incessantly. The ringing and Van's pleading and the thick, uncomfortable heat in the kitchen were a terrible mix. I felt like my head was going to explode.

"Well what did you expect, Alex?" Van said with a pang of anger in his voice. "We never go out. We barely ever talk. We haven't had sex in months—" I couldn't believe he would even bring those things up. Just because our relationship was on the rocks didn't mean he had permission to screw any girl who would spread her legs for him. And besides, why would I want to go out with him? Why would I want to sleep with that bastard? He was pathetic.

"So this is my fault?" I hissed, still refusing to look at him. "You are fucking some bitch and it is _my _fault?" I couldn't believe the nerve he had. He brought some slut into my house, my bed, and then he was going to blame it on me? He was delusional if he thought I was going to take the fault for his disgusting actions.

"Alex, please, just listen to me," Van continued to beg, putting his hand on my back. I contorted to his touch, quickly turning around with a grimace on my face.

"Don't touch me ever again," I said in a deadpan tone. Van's eyes got wider as if he was surprised that I didn't want his hands on me. "Just leave. And take your whore with you." I was breathing heavily and I felt like I had just run a mile. Van stood there as if he was frozen.

"Babe, just calm down," he said, trying to negotiate with me. I couldn't stand him. All he did was make my life more difficult. I had been letting his little flaws slide since we started dating. When he would forget to pick me up from work I would look past it. When he sat at home all day while I worked my ass off, I didn't complain. But now he was cheating on me and trying to negotiate with me about it? I couldn't take it. I was done with his bullshit. "Just give me another chance and I'll—" Van started, but I cut him off.

"No, Van!" I shouted, looking right in his eyes. "I'm done giving you chances! We are over!" As I looked into his eyes, I saw something change. It was like a switch in his brain flipped. I was seeing a side of Van that I had never seen before.

"Don't talk over me when I'm trying to tell you something!" he shouted, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me. "Do you hear me?" Van's grip on my quickly loosened and a familiar tranquility returned to his eyes. He let go of me, backing away. I bit my lip, hating the way he had put his hands on me. I was vibrating with anger. My hands clenched up into fists.

"Just leave," I hissed in a barely audible voice. Although I was quiet, Van heard me. He just turned and left the kitchen. He was probably going to grab a few of his things and tell his little whore that it was time to go. I groaned, closing my eyes. The room was suddenly filled with an uneasy silence except for the phone. It wouldn't stop ringing. I thought about pulling it out of the wall, but I decided it might be Cameron, so I answered it.

"Hey," I said in a hushed tone, "this really isn't a good time—"

"It better be a good fucking time," said an angry voice on the other line. "I am Jeff Tremaine. You just totaled my fucking car."

Today just wasn't my day.


	2. Girls, Girls, Girls (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Two: Girls, Girls, Girls (Johnny)_

"Johnny? Baby, are you okay? I have called, like, six times and you haven't picked up, and I am getting seriously worried about you. Can you just—" The answering machine cut off the rest of Naomi's words. I groaned, putting my pillow over my head. I swore if she called me one more time I was going to rip the phone out of the goddamn wall. Did she think I was dead or something? I talked to her just yesterday. What was it with women? You had to call them fifty times a day or they would think you were either in jail, the hospital, or you were sleeping around. Can't a guy just want to get a little shuteye every now and then?

Sighing, I rolled over in bed, my sheets getting tangled around my legs. I gave up, lying on my stomach, wishing that the sun that was bleeding through my bedroom window wasn't so bright. I closed my eyes tightly, wondering what time it was. Not that it mattered—I wasn't planning on going anywhere today. Actually, I was planning on staying in bed all day, but it looked like my fiancée's continuous phone calls were going to keep me from doing that. Just as that thought passed my mind, my phone rang again, causing me to laugh cynically. It was like she knew when I was thinking about her.

After wrestling with my bed sheets for a moment, I got out of bed, trudging over to the phone. I picked it up, immediately speaking into the receiver, "Baby, I am fine. I was just sleeping in. No need to worry about me."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart," said a voice that was definitely not Naomi's. "Big boys need to get their rest." I laughed, realizing it was Jeff Tremaine on the other line. "And believe me, I was worried sick about you!" he continued to mock. I just smiled, explaining that after my fiancée's never ending stream of phone calls, I assumed it was her who was calling me.

"Oh," Jeff said into the phone. "Trouble in paradise or something?"

"No," I replied quickly. "She is just a worrier." It was true. She would freak out over every tiny thing. I would fracture my ankle or something and she would flip out, acting like I needed a heart transplant. Well, they do say opposites attract.

"You give her enough to worry about," Jeff said. "You shot yourself in the stomach for fun. I'm not even dating you and that makes me a little nervous."

"Hey, I was wearing a bullet proof vest when I did that! It was almost completely safe," I said, trying to defend myself. "And besides, I was doing research for your fucking magazine." It was true; I was working for Tremaine on his magazine called Big Brother when I did an article on how safe bullet proof vests were. Lucky for me, they're pretty safe. Apparently, getting shot in the stomach is considered a kill shot. Who would have known that?

"Well, whatever. I didn't call you to discuss what a shitty excuse for a stuntman you are," Jeff laughed. "I have got some awesome news." I raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. "I found the last person to be on the Jackass cast. I talked to MTV and we can finally move forward with filming more episodes now." Wow, that was a pretty big deal. We had sold MTV some episodes of a show we had filmed called Jackass. The show was nothing but a bunch of us guys doing ridiculously dangerous stunts and playing hilarious pranks on each other. MTV was pretty cautious before buying the show and even more hesitant before airing the show, but eventually they put Jackass on TV. It got awesome ratings. The day after the first episode aired, MTV was already approaching us about making more episodes. But of course, MTV had to make a few adjustments. They wanted to see more of this and less of that, but overall, none of the changes were that big of a deal. But then Jeff told us that they wanted us to put another person on the cast before we started working on the second season of the show. Now that was going to be challenge.

"Really?" I said into the phone. "Where did you find him?" There was an uneasy silence on the other side of the phone. I might have been imagining things, but it seemed to me that Jeff was trying to think something up on the spot. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what the problem was. I knew he didn't find the new guy at an audition or something—Jeff refused to do any auditions. He said if he was going to put someone on the cast, he was going to find them by chance, not through an audition. He was really picky when it came to the cast of Jackass, so the fact that Jeff found someone so suddenly was pretty strange.

"Well, it is a long story," Jeff finally said. "And I don't want to have to repeat it over and over again to all the guys. So how about we have a meeting at my place? Like a Jackass cast party. You guys are going to have to get to know your new costar." I still felt like Jeff was trying to hide something from me, but I was probably just being suspicious. I hated how Jeff wouldn't tell me anything about the new guy, so I tried to get a little more information out of him.

"Can you at least tell me what his name is?" I asked. Jeff paused for a moment, deciding whether or not he wanted to tell me any more details about this new, secret cast member. Finally, he decided to level with me.

"Alex. Alex Kidd," Jeff said nonchalantly. Alex Kidd. It was a good enough name. It wasn't like he casted OJ Simpson to be on Jackass, so what was the big deal? I shrugged it off, deciding that Tremaine was just being an asshole. "So will you get the other guys together? Be at my place at around, I don't know, seven o'clock tonight? You don't think they will all be hammered by then, do you?" That was actually a legitimate question. I think Jeff had found some of the biggest drunken fuck ups in the world to star in Jackass. But they were all pretty good guys. They were fun to be around and had turned out to be some of my best friends. The Jackass crew was like my second family.

"I'm not making any promises," I said. "But I will try to get them to your house in one piece. But if their already wasted—well, that's not my fault." Jeff laughed, agreeing that those were pretty fair terms. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, Jeff," I said before hanging up the phone. I already knew what this was going to turn into. We would probably meet the new guy and then we would see if he could hold his liquor. You know, we would get him good and drunk and watch him do stupid shit. It was like hazing for the Jackass cast. But no one was complaining—going out and getting drunk was like a business meeting for the cast. We got some of our best ideas when we were drinking. I don't think a sober person could think up some of the things we were planning to do in these new episodes of Jackass.

Deciding to start getting the word out about the meeting, I gave Bam Margera and Ryan Dunn a call. The two guys were always together. They were both free and said they would be at Tremaine's house by seven. I wasn't sure if I believed them. Ryan was pretty good about making it to meetings and executive conferences, but Bam was a little more troubled when it came to arriving to places on time. Honestly, Bam was probably one of the craziest guys on the cast. Not crazy as in he would jump off a building if you told him to, but crazy in a sense that he would binge drink for days and stay in bed for a week afterwards. Well, he was _one _of the craziest. Steve-O probably took the cake.

I dialed Steve's phone number, wondering if he would even be up by now. Surprisingly, someone did pick up the phone, but it wasn't Steve. It was Chris Pontius, another one of my Jackass costars. "Hey, Chris," I said after he picked up. "What the hell are you doing at Steve's place?"

"Long night," he replied with a yawn. "Actually, I just brought Steve home. Went to some club that his buddy opened. The place was a shithole, but the guy was giving us drinks for free. Can't complain about that." Steve and Chris were always together, just like Bam and Dunn were. Unlike Ryan and Bam, who had been friends since they were kids, Steve and Chris met through Jackass. It was funny because right when we started casting for Jackass, Pontius couldn't stand Steve. He thought he was such a fuck up. But as it turns out, they were both fuck ups, so they got along just fine. "So what is going on?" Pontius asked.

"Tremaine casted another person to be on Jackass. He said he is ready to start filming now and he wants us all to come over his place to work out some last minute details. And he wants us to meet the new guy," I explained. Chris said he was cool with that and he would try to get Steve to sober up enough to get through the meeting. Sober was pretty much a foreign word to Steve. I think he had to have at least a little bit of booze in him just to function. But I wasn't going to say anything—I think all the shit Steve was taking helped him do some of the crazier stunts on Jackass. For many Jackass fans, Steve made the show. I couldn't argue with them—Steve was a natural in front of the camera.

"So where did Jeff find this guy?" Chris enquired. That seemed like the million dollar question today. Too bad nobody had the answer but Jeff, who seemed less than willing to tell anyone.

"I don't know. Jeff is being really secretive about the whole thing. Said it was a long story or some shit. His name is Alex Kidd though. I've never heard of him." Chris agreed that the name didn't sound familiar. Most of the people that were on the Jackass cast had been found through Big Brother magazine or CKY videos. But this Alex Kidd—I had never heard his name around the office. I wondered if he was a skateboarder or an actor or a comedian. There weren't many prerequisites to get on the show—just that you had to be a jackass. I had no idea what to expect from this new guy.

"I guess we will get to know him today," Pontius mused. "But I hope he doesn't have a nicer ass than I do." I rolled my eyes, chuckling at Chris' strange sense of humor. "No really, you don't think he is going to have a nicer ass than me? That must be why Jeff is keeping him a secret! Because he is going to replace me! Being naked was always my thing." Sadly enough, that was true. Chris seemed to be naked most of the time he was being filmed. It made it pretty uncomfortable for everyone on set, but I guess the viewers thought it was funny.

"No one is going to take your naked thing," I said, shaking my head. "I would be surprised if there is one other person in the entire world who would want to be on MTV running around naked. So I think your gig is pretty safe." I laughed at how pointless our conversation was.

"Okay," Chris said. "But what if he's got a bigger dick than me?"

"Bye, Chris," I said, hanging up the phone with a smile on my face. That guy was so fucking weird. But that was what made him hilarious. He was one of the funniest guys I had ever talked to. And he was a really good friend. From babysitting Steve-O after he passed out to just listening to you when you need to talk, Chris was a really awesome person. And when it came to making someone laugh, he would go to the furthest extent. So when the phone started to ring right after I hung it up, I knew it was probably Chris wanting to continue talking about whether the new guy was going to run around naked or not. So, I picked up the phone, quickly saying, "Calm down. I promise that the only person that isn't going to be fully clothed all the time is you!"

"Who isn't going to be fully clothed?" Of course, it wasn't Chris on the other line. It was Naomi. I sighed, realizing I had made two phone blunders in the same day. I rubbed my forehead, not wanting to explain my long morning full of strange phone calls, so I just played it off as coolly as I possibly could.

"No one, sweetie," I said, hoping she wouldn't question me about my odd greeting. "So, what's up? Why have you been calling me nonstop this morning?" I hoped I didn't come off as impatient as I was feeling, but Naomi seemed to always know how I was feeling and how to calm me down when I was too riled up.

"No reason," Naomi said in a voice so low it could be a whisper. "I just wanted to hear your voice." Women were tricky creatures. I thought I was pissed at her for calling me so much, but after talking to her for a whole minute, I was already putty in her hand. _I just wanted to hear your voice…_did girls really think like that? Did they really feel like that? Or did they just know exactly how to rub a guy the right way? Either way, she had made me remember why I asked her to marry me in the first place. "I'll be back in town later tonight. I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner or something." Just before I agreed to the date, I realized that I had to go to the Jackass meeting.

"Aw baby, I really want to, but I have got a work thing to do," I said. I almost felt guilty calling Jackass "work". It seemed more like fun. But I guess if you are getting paid for it, than it is work. Naomi sighed, making me feel even worse. She didn't protest, though—she knew Jackass was my only job right now and it was paying all my bills. I enjoyed it and was working hard to get this show back on TV, so Naomi never complained about it.

"It's okay," she said in a soft voice, not trying to hide the fact that she was a little saddened by the fact that I couldn't go out with her tonight. "Well, guess what Johnny? I got my dress yesterday. It is perfect." She went to Huntington Beach for a few days to shop around for her wedding dress. She was born out in Huntington and that's where most of her family lived, so I assumed she had them help her pick it out. She wouldn't let me help pick out her dress—no, she wasn't going to let me plan anything that had to do with the wedding. She said men didn't know anything about weddings, which was probably true. I just had to run errands for her whenever she told me to. I didn't really care, though. As long as there was going to be an open bar and a bride at the wedding, I guess I was happy. "So it has a sweetheart neckline and the back is cut out," Naomi said, describing her dress, though I wasn't really sure what a sweetheart neckline was. "My mom said it was too revealing for a wedding, but I knew you would love it." I shook my head, a smirk on my face. She was too much.

"Your mom hates me," I said. "They think I corrupted their little Catholic school girl." Naomi giggled on the other line. I remember the first time I met her mom and dad—it was a less than enjoyable experience. But I guess any business man would be from California would be upset if his daughter brought home some southern boy that made all his money as a part-time actor and full-time stuntman. But still, their daughter wasn't as innocent as they thought. "You know what? I think you were the one that corrupted me—" Naomi laughed on the other line.

"Shut up, Johnny!" Naomi chuckled. "You were nothing but a Hollywood playboy when I met you. And I think my mom and dad know that…but who cares about my parents. I just want to talk about me and you. I can't wait to be your wife." I knew she was probably smiling and twirling the phone cord around her finger as she spoke. "I can't believe I'm not going to be Naomi Simmons anymore," she murmured. "But Naomi Clapp has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Pretty nice," I agreed. She was so excited about this wedding. She wanted the whole fairytale wedding. I would have been happy with a small gathering with only our closest friends and family, but she thought that was a waste of a wedding. I wasn't going to fight her over it. She would have ended up getting things her way anyway. "What time are you going to be home?" I asked her before we finished talking.

"I don't know," she spoke. "I will probably stay in Huntington for a few more hours. Maybe I will be home around six or seven?" I told her I would be at my meeting at that time. "Where is your meeting? At Jeff's house? I will meet you there when I get back, okay?" I grimaced at the idea. I didn't really want to have Naomi around the Jackass guys, but I wasn't going to tell her that. She would probably flip out and get all insecure if she realized that my friends weren't her number one fans. So I told her what she wanted to hear, just like always.

"Sure, babe. I don't think Jeff will mind. The guys love you," I said. Of course, I was being extremely sarcastic when I said that, but Naomi couldn't tell. Most of the Jackass guys thought I was kidding when I said I proposed to her and when they found out that I was pretty serious about the whole marriage thing, they just thought I was making a big fucking mistake. Steve and Bam were always on my back, saying I should run while I have the chance, but they didn't get it. They weren't in love.

"Great. See you later, sweetie," Naomi said. I hung up the phone, taking a deep breath. I couldn't shake this nervous feeling I got every time someone brought up the wedding. I told myself I was just having cold feet, but every time I thought about marriage, I got a little panicky. I wanted to marry her—I really did. That is why I proposed to her. I couldn't see myself with anyone but her. But then I had the guys on my case, saying I just needed to date around a little longer to make sure she was the one. I guess what scared me the most about marrying Naomi was knowing that it meant settling down. No more late nights at the club. No more flirting with the chicks that saw me on TV before and thought I was some kind of celebrity. No more anything. But I would have Naomi. Forever.

"Your crazy, Knoxville," I told myself. I _was_ crazy. Naomi was the perfect girl. She was gorgeous with her sun kissed skin and shiny brown hair. The moment I met her—about three years ago—I knew she was the one for me. She was so bubbly and happy. Of course, as I got to know her better, I realized that we were total opposites. She was jumpy and a little gullible. But even though we were different, we worked well together. After dating for two years, I proposed. My parents said I should have waited longer, but I felt like it was the right time. Now, I was wondering if I should have listened to my folks. But I just did what I always did when I was feeling anxious. I pushed the thoughts out of my head and tried to focus on something else.

I walked over to the couch, deciding that trying to go back to sleep was a lost cause. I flipped on the television, looking at the screen dully. I put on MTV, checking to see if a Jackass rerun was on. There wasn't, but I knew that sooner rather than later Jackass would be back on the small screen. That was a weird feeling. It was exciting but scary. When this whole Jackass thing started, people were saying it was going to change history. Of course those people are complete morons, but things certainly did change for me after Jackass started. People started recognizing me on the street. Not a lot of people, but some people. Things with Naomi got a little more stressful than they were in the past. I felt more tired on a daily basis. Things were just different.

I laid back on the couch, closing my eyes. When the TV was on, it made my apartment feel less empty. But I knew in a matter of weeks my apartment wouldn't be empty. No doubt, Naomi would want to move in before the wedding. She said my place was too small, but she would still want to start living together before we were married. Then we would have to start looking for a bigger house to move into. Probably something in her hometown, because she would want to live by her family. Then she would want to start a new family with me. Then we would have kids and I would be a dad.

I suddenly felt a wave of nausea.

This was the life I wanted—with Naomi. But I didn't want it now. Maybe in a couple of years. But this was all happening to fast. But I would never tell her that. I wasn't going to hurt her like that. I would just man up and take on these new responsibilities. It was time for me to grow up.

I spent the rest of my morning doing whatever I could to take my mind off of things. I blasted the radio, roamed the internet, chain smoked until I felt like I couldn't breathe, and called whoever would talk to me. Time still went by in a sluggishly slow manner. I had been so excited to take a day to myself after weeks of corporate meetings with MTV suits, but I couldn't even enjoy it. I was too busy worrying about things I couldn't change.

After hours of wandering around my apartment, it was finally time to head over to Jeff's house. Usually, I hated when Jeff called us in on our days off, but today I was thankful. I needed to get out of the house. Maybe it was because I didn't have Naomi to preoccupy my time with questions about table runners and chair covers for the wedding. There I go, thinking about the wedding again. It seemed like it was all I could think about.

Attempting to shake these thoughts once again, I left my apartment, getting into my car. I drove through town, going to the gated area that Jeff called home. He lived in a really nice house with his new wife, Laura Tremaine. She was always planting flowers in the front yard, baking cookies, doing those really stereotypical housewife duties. But Jeff insisted that she wasn't as sweet as we thought she was. He would laugh, saying that she could be really evil when he disagreed with her, but I think most women were like that. But ever since Jeff got hitched, he became a bit of a _househusband_ himself. He spent Sundays fluffing pillows with the wife and visiting the in-laws. He was pretty whipped, but it was alright because Laura was such a nice woman. All of the Jackass guys loved her, and it was hard to find a girl that we all liked in a completely friendly, nonsexual way.

When I pulled into the long driveway of the Tremaine household, I saw a bunch of cars were already there. The guys had actually shown up on time. I got out of the car, feeling like I was the late one, and headed into the house. But I didn't find a bunch of guys talking about dates and times and MTV's expectations, but I found a bunch of guys wielding blunt objects and yelling at Laura. That was…odd.

"Where is that asshole's Porsche!" Bam demanded, holding a sledge hammer in his hands. "He never takes it out. Why would he decide to drive it today? To impress the new guy? That's bullshit." I sat down on the couch next to Chris who was happily drinking beers with Ehren McGhehey and Dave England, two of our other Jackass costars.

"What is going on?" I asked, looking at Bam, who was interrogating Laura for information.

"Bam is a dumbass," Ehren said. "So nothing new." I laughed. Bam and Ehren were always fighting; it was pretty hilarious for all of us to watch. I could see each guy's point of view in the rivalry. Bam was a cocky asshole, but then again, Ehren did say, "safety first," before he did any stunts. I mean, who does that? But I like to think of the Jackass cast as a big dysfunctional family. Even though we might fight sometimes, we are still family.

"Bam wanted to fuck with Jeff's Porsche. So he made us all get here thirty minutes early just so we would have time to smash up his car. But we got here and it wasn't in the garage. Bam thinks it is some sort of conspiracy or something, I don't know," said Dave, shaking his head. "I think it was pretty much a terrible idea from the beginning. I mean, Jeff loves that car. And it is worth so much money." I agreed. You would have to have some serious balls to mess with that car.

"Wait," I said. "Why didn't anyone tell me to get here early? I like destroying Jeff's hard earned, prized possessions as much as the next guy." Even though the prank wasn't going to happen, I wanted to know why no one told me about it. It seemed strange for Bam to invite Ehren, but not me. I watched as Chris exchanged looks with the other guys, who chuckled quietly. "What am I missing?" I asked.

"Thought you would be busy with your chick," Chris finally said. I rolled my eyes. Stuff like this always happened. They thought just because I was engaged I had to be at home all the time, waiting on Naomi hand and foot. It wasn't like that. I could show up here thirty minutes early. And besides, Naomi wasn't even in town. But I didn't feel like talking about her with the guys, so I just grabbed a beer off the table and didn't say anything. They all thought Naomi was the antichrist or something and there was no convincing them otherwise.

"Come on, Laura," I heard Dunn say, who had a tire iron in his hands. "We aren't going to total it or anything. We just want to fuck it up a little so he gets pissed." Laura just smiled and shrugged. She usually didn't care when we wanted to mess with Jeff, so her sudden secretiveness was pretty weird.

"I know, I know," she said, "but honestly, his car is in the shop. He has been driving my car around for the past few days. He probably won't be getting it back for a while." The guys sighed, dropping the weapons they were planning to use to destroy the Porsche to the floor.

"Why is his car in the shop?" Steve-O asked, laying down on one of the couches in the living room. Laura took a minute to think about the question.

"I think he is going to want to tell you that story himself," she decided. "And believe me, it is a good one. When I found out what happened, I couldn't stop laughing. I think you guys will get a kick out of it." What was with all the secrets lately? First Jeff wouldn't tell me about the new guy, then I wasn't invited to the secret-prank-party, and now I couldn't hear about what happened to his car? All I knew was that I was getting impatient and I just wanted to meet the newest Jackass cast member.

Having given up on destroying Jeff's prized car, the guys all migrated to the living room, lying out lazily across the couches, talking about Jackass and skating and stuff. In the kitchen, Laura was talking with a few of the guy's girlfriends who had tagged along with them. There was Bam's girlfriend, Missy, and then there was the girl Steve was screwing. Her name was something trendy like Casey or Candy, but I just couldn't remember. It didn't matter though; Steve got a new whore every other day. There was no point in learning all their names.

"Oh my God, Johnny!" I heard Missy yell from the kitchen. I looked over to her. She was waving her phone in the air, pointing to the screen. "Naomi just called me! You didn't tell me she was coming. I haven't seen that girl in ages. She is such a sweetheart…" I smiled at Missy, but when I turned back to the guys, they were all giving me the death stare.

"You invited the wife, Knoxville?" Steve said. I cringed at the way he said _wife_.

"She is my fiancée, not my wife," I corrected.

"Whatever," Steve said. "Why is she coming?" I just shrugged. It wasn't like I invited her; she kind of just invited herself. And all the other guys brought their girlfriends, so I felt bad telling Naomi she couldn't come just because most of the guys didn't like her. But there was no use in trying to explain this to the guys. They wouldn't get it.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about," Chris said. "Naomi is hot."

"But then she opens her mouth," Bam said. All the guys started laughing. Even I did.

"Missy is no prize either," Dunn said in a hushed tone. Bam elbowed him, but he still had a smile on his face. Missy was a nice girl. She was pretty, but when you talked to her, you got this feeling that she was a few cents short of a dollar. In other words, she was a complete airhead and a groupie. But she was nice to look at, so Bam stayed with her. Of course, he cheated on her every other night, but he still claimed he loved her. And Bam was convinced that Missy was screwing other guys, so I guess he wasn't completely using her. It was a mutually fucked up relationship.

"Yeah," I agreed with Dunn. "And what about that girl you're with, Steve? Do you even know her name?" Steve laughed.

"I thought her name was Crystal, but I think I just heard Laura call her Chloe," he replied. We were probably great examples of what every girl doesn't want in a boyfriend—guys who didn't care about anything except for looks. That is why most of the Jackass guys just stayed single. They were always trying to convince me that I should be doing the same, but they didn't get how I felt about Naomi. Sure, she could be ditsy at times, and maybe she did talk about things she read in Cosmo for hours, but that didn't change how I felt about her. If they tried to get to know Naomi they would probably really like her. Well, maybe.

We waited for a few more minutes. Laura got us all more beers, always trying to be a good host. I often wondered how she ended up with a guy like Jeff who got his kicks watching a bunch of dudes kick each other in the balls. But either way, I enjoyed having any meetings at the Tremaine household. Their house was huge and their liquor cabinet was always stocked. Now that is what I call Jackass heaven.

While we drank and waited, Jeff pulled up in the driveway. The guys cheered, realizing we were about to meet our new Jackass costar. It seemed like we had been waiting forever. Laura went to get the door as we sat in the living room. "The moment of truth," Chris said, finishing off a bottle of beer. We all stared at the doorway, waiting for the new Jackass to walk in, but he didn't. It was Jeff and some girl. Where was he new guy? Then I realized what was going on.

"Hey guys," Jeff said sheepishly. I was stilling looking at the girl while he spoke. "This is Alex Kidd. She is your new costar."

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

I have been working in California for awhile. Since I was eighteen I had been trying to make it in this business. Now, people say a lot of things about the entertainment industry. They say it is fake and pretentious. They say it is ruining the youth of our nation. I think a lot of those assumptions are false. In all my years working with MTV and other big production companies, I always strived to stay the same humble guy I was when I lived in Knoxville. I've tried to stay out of the tabloids and keep my personal life private. I had never been the kind of celebrity who was known for acting stupid, causing unnecessary drama, and stirring up huge amounts of trouble just for attention. The Jackass guys might be a little reckless now and then, but we didn't ever do it for publicity. It wasn't like we went out hoping the paparazzi were waiting for us. And because of that, I never thought of myself as the stereotypical Hollywood tool. So, I guess you could say I was a little shocked when Alexandra Kidd called me a prick and through a drink in my face within the first hour of our meeting.

Now, you've got to let me explain myself. I'm usually not a total dick. Really, I'm not. Especially when it comes to women. I'm usually polite and kind. I open doors and pull out chairs, ask any of the girls I've ever dated. But when I met Alex, we butted heads in the most explosive way possible. The other guys hit it off with her, but I just didn't. And she didn't seem to like me all that much either.

"I know you are all probably a little shocked by the fact that I am putting a girl—a _woman_ on the cast," I remember Jeff saying. "But the people at MTV think it is a good idea. We will get more female viewers with her on the show. And just think of all the publicity we are going to get when people find out we are adding a chick to our cast! It is going to be a big deal. Putting her on the cast is going to get us views, I promise all of you that." While Jeff explained this too us, Alex was sitting on Jeff's pool table, a blasé look on her face—like she didn't give a shit whether we liked her or not.

I couldn't believe Jeff was actually considering—no, actually _adding _a girl to our cast. It sounded like a good idea, and sure, it probably would get us more viewers for a couple of weeks, but when all those viewers realized that Alex was just some chick that was added to the cast for shock value, they'd stop watching. There was no way a girl was going to fit in with the cast. I don't know what Jeff was planning to do with Alex, but there was no way it was going to work. I looked around the living room at the other guys, trying to see if any of them looked as shocked as I did, but their reactions were all over the place. Chris was laughing at how surprised I looked, Bam was too drunk to give a shit who was joining the cast, and Steve needed to pick his tongue off the floor. I was beyond irritated.

"Why didn't you talk to us about this?" I said, staring daggers at Jeff. "You could have at least told us you were thinking about adding a girl to the cast. You didn't have to go out and immediately find one. I think we were all expecting someone that was more…_testosteroney_." I seriously thought he had lost his fucking mind. If adding Alex went over badly with the fans, there would be no patching things up. And if ratings dropped and Jackass got cancelled then there would be a bunch of jackasses out of a job.

"I have been thinking about this for a long time. I decided I was going to do it months ago," Jeff said. "I wanted a girl on the cast since season one. But I swear, Al is perfect for the show. Just wait until we start filming. She is going to do awesome, I know it." I had been so angry with Tremaine that I had almost forgotten that Alex was in the room. She was glaring at me, her mouth forming a tight frown.

"You know, just because I don't have a dick doesn't mean I can't do any of the stupid shit you guys do," she sneered. I'm not going to lie, I felt bad for coming off as sexist as I probably did. And I had been ignoring her the whole time she was standing there. I didn't even introduce myself. So I just stared at her, unsure if I should apologize or defend myself. "And you know what—" she started, before getting sidetracked, "Oh wait, I didn't catch your name." I wasn't sure if she was talking to me.

"You don't know who I am?" I asked. I immediately regretted my words. I realized that I was coming off as a total dickhead, but that wasn't what I meant. I just assumed that someone who was joining the cast of a television show would know all her costars names. I didn't think I was some megastar or something. But of course, Alex took my words the wrong way.

"No, I don't know who you are," she spat. "And I don't really care, either. Just because you have been on MTV a couple of time and you can afford designer sunglasses doesn't mean I am going to kiss the ground you walk on." I just shook my head, sighing dramatically. This was a great way to start a relationship with my new coworker.

"I need a drink," I murmured. This meeting was quickly turning to shit. I knew adding another person on the cast would only cause problems. The only way this was going to turn out good was if Jeff realized this chick was crazy and he decided against putting her on Jackass.

"And you need a serious reality check if you think you're going to act like a douche bag for the rest of the filming season," Alex snarled. "Because I will back out of this if all you guys are going to—" I was hoping she would decide to quit the show right then and there, but then Tremaine had to jump in and try to smooth things over.

"No need for that," Jeff cut in, standing in front of me in an effort to stop Alex from yelling at me. "Johnny here is just takes this show very seriously and he doesn't want someone to come in and mess it up. But let's move on because we have a lot of work to do. We have to start building the filming schedule." Alex glanced at me one more time before putting all her attention on work. So, I thought it was over. I couldn't have been more wrong.

The rest of our meeting went along pretty smoothly. The guys loved Alex for reasons that were beyond me. I guess it was pretty interesting how Jeff found her after she trashed his car. Jeff explained the whole story that had only happened days before and it was pretty hilarious. I could imagine Jeff finding Alex while she was smashing the windows of his car out in the parking lot of some shitty bar. Jeff was so pissed when it happened, he went back into the bar and demanded that the bartender give him Al's phone number. Originally, he was going to call her and demanded that she pay for the repairs for his car, but after thinking about it, he decided she would be perfect for the cast of the show. Alex had to have some serious guts if she went around smashing up expensive cars for fun. And aside from the fact that she seemed like a bit of a badass, she had a lot of good ideas for the show and she seemed to be fine with the bits we had already planned. She didn't look scared when someone brought up bull riding or any other stunts. I had to admit that so far she was really proving me wrong. I assumed that she would be backing out of half the stunts we were planning on doing, but she was cool with all of them. Maybe I shouldn't have judged her so early.

"So, you guys are available to start filming in a month?" Jeff said, making sure that we were all okay with his schedule. "No one has any other commitments?" No one said anything, so Jeff just jotted down a few dates on his clipboard. "Good," he murmured. I thought we were done, but I wasn't so lucky. "Now that we have all that sorted out, we can move on to our publicity schedule!" Jeff cheered. Everyone groaned in unison. "Oh, come on guys," he sighed, "as soon as we get done with this we can…" Before he could finish speaking, someone knocked at the front door. Laura ran to get it.

"Hey, Naomi!" Laura shouted happily, hugging my fiancée as she walked in the door. Steve-O elbowed me, rolling his eyes as Naomi walked over. I didn't pay any attention to Steve because I was too busy staring at Naomi. She looked gorgeous as always. She smiled at me, jumping in my arms as if she hadn't seen me in three years. This probably would have aggravated me on any other day, but for some reason her overdramatic display of affection didn't bother me today.

"How have you been, babe?" she said in a sweet voice, sitting down next to me on the couch. I put my arm around her waist and she kissed me on the side of the face. She put her head on my shoulder. Although I had never told her, I always found it really comforting when she did that.

"Great," I said sarcastically. "Couldn't be better." Naomi said she was glad to hear that, not hearing the sarcasm in my voice. It was better that my fiancée didn't know that I was having problems with my new coworker. She probably would have made a huge deal out of it which wasn't necessary. I just stroked Naomi's back, watching as a few of the guys started talking to Alex. I was focusing on Steve and Bam, who were whispering something to Alex, who was laughing hysterically. I was pretty positive they were talking about Naomi and me, but I just shook it off. There was no need to start another fight. Whether I liked her or not, I was going to be stuck working with Alex. I better learn how to tolerate her and her shitty attitude now.

"Well, I guess we can take a break from all this Jackass shit," said Jeff, who was becoming more and more of a slave driver every day. When it came to anything concerning the show, he was hell-bent on getting it done as quickly as possible, even if that meant working ten hour days for weeks at a time. "I could use a beer anyway," he added. Everybody gave a sigh of relief. I needed a quick break. I think my head would have exploded if I heard someone say "schedule" one more time. I wasn't used to all of this planning and wither were the other guys. When we were working on the first season of Jackass, we didn't have anyone to answer too. We were just shooting for fun, hoping that someone would buy the footage. We were psyched when MTV picked up the show, but we didn't know they were going to be so strict with their deadlines and their requirements.

"Hey, Johnny?" Naomi said, breaking my train of thought. Everyone spread out across the living room and Naomi had seemed to take an interest in the new girl. "Who is that blonde girl over there? Is she dating someone on the cast?" she asked, pointing at Alex. I groaned, but tried to cover up my negative feelings for the new girl.

"Remember how I told you Jeff was trying to find a new person to join the cast?" I said. Naomi raised an eyebrow, knowing where I was headed. I'm glad I wasn't the only one who was shocked when the Alex who was going to be on the show turned out to be an _Alexandra_ instead of an _Alexander_. "Yeah, that's the newbie. She's very…different," I reasoned. "She's kind of stubborn," I added, trying to make sure my words weren't too incriminating.

"Wow," Naomi said, staring at Alex, who was having a drink with some of the other guys. "I didn't think Jeff would do that. It seems risky." Finally! Someone agreed with me. No wonder I was getting ready to marry her. "So, I'm guessing you didn't hit it off with her?" I laughed cynically at Naomi's question. Saying that we didn't hit off was the understatement of the century.

"I don't think she likes me very much," I said. "We got into it for a minute, but it's over now. I hope we can just move past all of this. We are going to have to work together for a while." I decided to omit any details of my fight with Alex. I didn't want to morph Naomi's opinion of the girl. I would let my fiancée find out about Alex's attitude on her own.

"She doesn't like you?" Naomi said, kissing my cheek, smiling as she spoke. "Impossible. Everyone likes you." Even I laughed at that one.

"That is what I thought—" I started sarcastically, but Naomi cut me off.

"But I really should go introduce myself," She said, standing up and straightening her dress.

"No, you really shouldn't," I said, not letting go of her hand. Alex wasn't my biggest fan, so I assumed she wouldn't be interested in meeting my fiancée. But Naomi just shook my hand off of hers, determined on becoming friends with everyone on the Jackass cast. If she knew what all the guys really thought of her, she would probably be less interested in meeting Alex. But still, she crossed the living room, her high heels tapping on the hardwood floor, and approached Alex.

"Hi" she said in an overly friendly voice. Alex looked her up and down with a blank look on her face. "I heard you were the new Jackass member." Alex just nodded, slightly smiling. I couldn't tell if it was a genuine smile or a fake one, but I guess it didn't matter. "I'm Johnny's fiancée," Naomi continued. Alex chuckled at that.

"Oh, really?" Alex replied in a voice that was loud enough for me to hear. "You are a really lucky lady. He seems like an awesome guy." She looked at me, flashing me a passive-aggressive smile. I smiled back, giving her the middle finger, but she conveniently looked away, pretending she did not see me.

"He is," said Naomi, not sensing Alex's obvious sarcasm. "Well, if you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask. All us Jackass girls need to stick together." Naomi pointed to Missy and Crystal/Chloe. I could see the accusations forming in Alex's eyes. _Jackass girls? You are just a bunch of groupies who are dating some of the guys. And why would I need to stick with you, anyway? _But she didn't say anything; she just smiled at Naomi and thanked her. That was…surprising.

The rest of the night was awkward to say the least. I was starting to feel pretty bad for acting like an asshole to the new girl, so I decided that before the night was over, I would try and apologize to her. Apologizing wasn't something I was ever good at, but still, I felt like I had to tell Alex I was sorry just so that filming with her wouldn't be too terrible. I had good intentions when I approached her—really, I did—but when I tried to apologize, it just didn't turn out right.

Alex was standing in the kitchen, pouring herself a drink when I approached her. She didn't look at me when I went over to her, so I assumed she was just being stubborn. "Hey, Alex," I said, putting my hand on her back, "I think we got off on the wrong foot—"

"Don't touch me," she said in a blunt tone. "I don't like being touched." I quickly pulled away from her, not wanting her to get all pissed off again. I was starting to think she was one of those chicks that would never let you win. Like no matter what I said or what I did, she was always going to be ready to be offended, always ready to fight. I pushed those negative feelings aside and tried to make peace with the new Jackass member.

"_Sorry_," I said slowly, trying not to sound as bitter as I was feeling. She finally looked up at me. "Sorry for before. I just take this show really seriously. I wasn't trying to offend you, I was just sort of angry that Jeff made a drastic change without telling anyone. But I'm over that now. So how about we start over?" I extended my hand to her. She took it, shaking it briefly. I smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Johnny. What's your name?"

"Alex Kidd," she said. Boy, I was glad that was over.

"I knew we didn't have to fight, babe—" I said, but Alex cut me off again, sighing and rolling her eyes. I couldn't believe I had already done something else to make her angry.

"Do you not get it!?" she said, shaking her head at me. "Don't touch me, don't call me 'babe', and don't treat me like I am any less than you because I'm a girl, okay?" At this point, I was pretty fed up with this girl. I thought we were over the whole she's-a-girl-who-wants-to-act-like-a-boy thing, but I guess we weren't. And I was pretty pissed that Alex was acting so cold towards me, so I did something that wasn't that smart.

"What is your problem? I tried to be nice to you. I tried to apologize to you. What the fuck do you want me to do?" I said, throwing my hands up in defeat. "Or do you always act like a crazy bitch when you meet new people?" Before I could realize what I had just said, Alex had thrown a glass of whiskey in my face. If this situation wasn't bad enough, all the guys started watching Alex and me fight and they were all snickering because I had just taken a drink to the face.

"You haven't seen crazy, you prick," Alex said in a whisper just loud enough for me to hear. "Sorry to break it to you, but you're not going to be king around here anymore." I didn't say anything; I just stared at her, whiskey still dripping off my face. She then raised her voice so everyone could hear her. "I can't wait to start working with Johnny!" she said sarcastically. She had a fake smile in her face before pointing to the whiskey stain on my shirt. "White vinegar works wonders on alcohol stains," she said before exiting the kitchen, causing the guys to erupt into laughter, cheering her on.

I was convinced. This chick was insane.


	3. Hurt (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Three: Hurt (Alex)_

"Can anyone give me a ride home?" I asked, leaving a whiskey-soaked Johnny Knoxville in the kitchen behind me. I know Jeff wanted us to work on the publicity schedule a little more, but it was almost one in the morning and I wasn't sticking around any longer. Besides, if I stayed in the same building as Johnny for another minute I would have probably ended up hitting him over the head with the entire whiskey bottle. As I walked into the living room, I saw a bunch of drunk men laying all over the room. I sighed as one of them approached me.

"I'll give you a ride," slurred Steve-O drunkenly, wobbling towards me, "to _my _place." I groaned, pushing my way past him. He was so plastered that I didn't even waste my time telling him that I would rather chew off my own right hand than spend a night with him. There was no point in trying to degrade a drunk person. They were just going to forget about it in the morning.

"Can anyone give me a ride who _isn't_ completely trashed?" I asked again. Chris offered to bring me home. He didn't look too drunk, so I decided I would take my chances with him. It would take me forever to walk home from this part of LA. I didn't have much of a choice but to ride home with him.

"But we didn't finish the…" Jeff started, but he quickly realized that no one was planning on doing any more work tonight. "Whatever," he groaned, putting his clipboard down. "We can work on it some other time. But expect a call from me tomorrow, Alex. I still have to work out a few more details with you." I told him that he could call me whenever before I headed out with Chris, who was dragging Steve-O behind him. I almost felt bad for Steve as I watched him stagger around the room. He was stumbling out the door with Chris and me, a dazed look in his eyes. He reminded me of a little kid, the way he had to be walked out to the car. We have all been there before. I know I have been trashed like that in the past, but when everyone is sober and you're the only drunk person in the room, it just seems pathetic.

"It's like you have to babysit him," I said to Chris when we got to his van. He laughed before shoving Steve into the backseat. "I'd leave him here and tell him to find his own fucking way home," I added as I climbed into the passenger's seat.

"I've thought about that plenty of times," Chris said. "But if I was falling down drunk, he would do the same for me. And I don't really mind anymore." I thought that was nice of him, watching as he got behind the wheel. "So," he said as he started the car, "what the fuck happened with you and Johnny? I thought I was about to watch Knoxville get his ass handed to him by a chick." He laughed at that and so did I. "Actually, that would have been pretty rad…"

"He's an asshole," I said as we drove down the road. Steve shouted something, but I couldn't understand his slurred words, so I just continued explaining myself. "Right when I walked in he was staring at me like I was a leper or something. It was like he was sizing me up. And then the first thing he said was that Jeff should have talked to him before putting me on the show. Who the fuck does he think he is?" I was getting angry and raising my voice even there was no reason to. I took a deep breath before continuing. "Tremaine said no one was going to freak out when they found out a girl was joining the cast. But I guess he was wrong about that."

"Johnny means well," Chris said while he drove. "He is a pretty cool guy. He'll grow on you—"

"Like a cancerous cyst," I cut in cynically. Chris laughed and so did Steve-O, but I am pretty sure the trashed guy in the backseat had no idea what was going on.

"Jackass is just…his thing," Chris tried to explain. "It's his show. He loves it. If it ended tomorrow everyone would move on, but Johnny wouldn't. He loves filming and he loves promoting. When someone comes in and threatens what he loves doing, he turns into a prick. Like when MTV started trying to change things, he was acting like a dick for weeks…"

"But how did I threaten his show?" I said. All I did was walk into the meeting with no idea what to expect and I definitely wasn't trying to threaten anyone's job. Chris paused for a moment, deciding what to say next.

"I'm not really sure," he said. "He probably thinks you are going to steal the show. He's probably right, too." I stifled a laugh. I couldn't imagine being the center of attention. I didn't _want_ to be the center of attention. I knew I didn't want Johnny to think he was the star of the show, but that's not because I wanted his spot. It was just because I thought he was an asshole who needed an attitude adjustment.

"I don't think so," I said. "I'm usually more reserved than I was acting at that meeting." It was true. I usually tried not to feed into any drama. I thought I had left all that shit in Queens, but with all my problems with Van and now with Johnny, I was pretty sure drama was something that was going to follow me around for the rest of my life.

"Doesn't matter," Chris said. "You're the new girl. People are going to want to interview you. They are going to want to see you in the magazines. You are going to be in the ads and the commercials. That was usually Knoxville's thing." All of a sudden I felt bad for the guy. It was like I was coming in and taking his gig from him. And the last thing I wanted to be was the face of some MTV show. I just wanted to get paid a decent amount for having fun. Semi-stardom was just something that came with the job.

"Well why did MTV want to add someone else to the cast?" I asked. If Knoxville had this whole Jackass thing on lock, why did MTV even request a new person be added to the cast? It wasn't like I went and asked Jeff to put me on the show. He approached me.

"Jeff has been getting shit from every committee in the entire fucking world," Chris said. "There is the PTC, which is just a big group of parents who complain about every TV show that is on the air. There is no way to shut them up. And then there is PETA who think we are treating the bulls and crocodiles that are on the show unfairly. Now, if they actually watched the show, they would know that the animals are the ones hurting us, not the other way around, but there is no way they are going to listen to me," he explained. "But Jeff has also been getting a lot of slack from feminist groups saying that there should be a woman on the cast. So by putting you on the show, Jeff is shutting up one group that has always been harassing him." That made enough sense.

"So it didn't matter who was added on the show," I said, "Just as long as they had a twat." That sounded about right. Jeff needed a girl, so he probably just picked the first one he found. And that just so happened to be me. Chris disagreed with me.

"Jeff was really picky. He wasn't going to pick any girl he found. He has been looking for over a year for the right person," Chris explained. "And I guess when you had the balls to smash up his car, he knew he had found another Jackass. Because us Jackasses really like fucking with Tremaine." I laughed. Tremaine wasn't a bad guy, he was actually pretty cool, but he seemed a little gullible. He was probably an easy target for all types of pranks. "But, other than the thing with Knox, are you excited to start shooting?"

"Yeah," I said. "This all happened so fast, I didn't really think about filming. None of this feels real yet." Stuff like this didn't tend to happen to me. I was never the one who caught the ball at the Sox game or found a twenty dollar bill on the floor. Being randomly picked up to star on a hit MTV show seemed too good to be true. Of course, I wasn't going to get my hopes up.

"Well don't worry," Chris said. "When you are taking a pair of bull horns to the crotch it will feel real." Steve cheered in agreement in the backseat. "But filming is fun. You'll like it," Chris confirmed. "And I bet you will end up becoming friends with everyone on the cast. Even Johnny. It's hard not to respect him after you watch some of the stunts he does." I was pretty sure I was never going to consider Johnny one of my friends. I knew guys like Johnny. They were those guys who played football in high school and had perfect little girlfriends and perfect little lives. Good looks got them everywhere and they had little respect for anyone that wasn't like them. He fit the description perfectly.

"If you say so, Pontius," I offered. I wouldn't shut down the idea that I would end up befriending Knoxville, I just found it extremely unlikely. I chatted with Chris for the rest of the drive until we were in East LA. The graffiti ridden buildings and the hookers on the street corners made me feel more at home than the white picket fences in Jeff's neighborhood did.

"Is this your building?" Chris asked as we drove close to my apartment building, following the directions I had given him. I was about to tell him it was, but I saw Van's car outside the building. Then I saw him standing by his car, smoking a cigarette with his arms crossed. I wasn't sure if he was waiting for me or if he had just stopped by to pick up the rest of his stuff. Either way, I didn't want to deal with him tonight. So I just quickly made a change of plans.

"Uh, no," I lied. "I live a few blocks over." I felt stupid, seeing as how I had just directed Chris to that apartment building, but he didn't question me. He just kept driving.

"Jesus, Alex," Chris said as we drove deeper in town. "It is fucking scary around here." I just shrugged. This wasn't the greatest part of Los Angeles, but it was one of the cheapest places to live in the state. And at this point in my life, I couldn't afford anything better.

"No," I told Chris. "This part of town in awesome. I get to watch a gang fight outside my window every night. It is exciting!" Chris laughed, sensing the sarcasm in my voice. "And I know all the best places to find crack in California. You aren't going to get that type of information living in the OC."

"How lovely," Chris said as I directed him to Cam's apartment instead of my own. I didn't want to have to deal with Van and I knew Cameron would let me crash at her place for a night or two. "So this is your building?" Chris asked as we pulled up.

"Yeah," I lied, staring at Cameron's building. This was some gang's turf, but I no longer had any fears about living in the area. I'm sure living in gang territory in LA sounds like hell, but it really isn't that bad. After a few months, you don't even wakeup when you hear shouting and gunshots in the streets. And I haven't had a run in with an armed drug dealer in weeks. Things were looking up.

"Well I guess I'll see you at the next time Jeff calls us all in," Chris said. "And knowing him, that might end up being tomorrow. He has a thing about—" Before Chris could finish talking, Steve started puking in the backseat, causing Chris to groan with displeasure. I frowned, watching as Steve emptied the contents of his stomach all over the backseats of the van. That was going to be a bitch to clean up. "I swear, Steve does this like, every other day," Chris grumbled. "It's fucking sick." I chuckled at his words.

"Looks like somebody's going to have to clean out the interior of their van," I said. "I'll let you get to that. See you later." I waved goodbye to him before heading to Cam's apartment. I would have been pissed if one of my friends got drunk and hurled in the back of my car, but it seemed like Chris was used to taking care of Steve when he was wasted. That's what friends were for, right? I just sighed, heading up the stairs to Cam's place.

I walked past several apartments, hearing the sounds of loud music and shouting. It sounded like home, I thought with a laugh. I got to Cam's door and knocked, waiting for her to answer. When she didn't answer the door, I knocked again, wondering what she was doing. "Cameron?" I said as I banged on her door. Finally, the door flung open, and a spooked Cam opened the door. She was holding a baseball bat as if she expected a murderer to be on the other side of her door. "What's going on?" I asked. Cameron just laughed, letting me in her apartment.

"Oh, nothing," she assured me. "I just thought it was Ricardo from the apartment next door. He has been trying to get me to buy some shit from him. Everyone knows his weed is crap. He charges too much and I swear there are fucking branches in it." I chuckled, flopping down on her couch.

"So you were planning on bludgeoning him to death?" I asked with a smile on his face. "That is a really good idea." Cameron dropped her bat to the floor, realizing the flaws in her scheme.

"I didn't want to actually hit him," she said. "I just wanted to scare him."

"There is nothing scary about you wielding a baseball bat," I said. "If anything, that is funny, not intimidating." She pouted, sitting on the couch next to me. She ruffled her short hair cut before stretching her arms and yawning.

"Why are you here anyways?" she asked mid-yawn. "It is like two in the morning."

"Van was at my place. I didn't want to deal with him so I just thought I'd come crash at your place." Cameron didn't mind. The apartment only had one bedroom, but when I used to live here with her I just slept on a mattress on the floor. Thankfully, she never got rid of my mattress and she said I could stay with her as long as I wanted. I had told her about my fight with Van the other day and she was glad that I didn't want to talk to him. "Thanks," I said.

"Well now that I'm up, you've got to tell me how the Jackass thing went," Cam said. "Did anyone get kicked in the balls?" I laughed, shaking my head. I was momentarily tempted to just tell her the meeting went great and all the guys were awesome, but I didn't want to lie to her.

"Um, it was okay," I said slowly. Cameron raised an eyebrow.

"Just okay?" she asked. "Did something happen?" I sighed. Cam had seen Jackass on TV before. She was familiar with the show and the guys. When I got offered the spot on Jackass, she was the one who told me to do it. Telling her I kind-of-sort-of started a fight with Johnny Knoxville was going to get her pretty bummed.

"No…" I lied, but then Cam gave me that look and I knew I had to fess up. "Okay. Yeah. I got in a tiny _verbal altercation _with some guy. No big deal though—" Cameron's eyes got all wide and I knew she wasn't going to let me go to sleep without telling her the whole story.

"What?" she said, demanding more information from me. "With who? What happened? You started it didn't you? C'mon, Al! This awesome opportunity just fell into your lap and you are going to fuck it up because you want to fight with everyone you talk to?" I chuckled at the sense of urgency in her tone. Of course, she wasn't laughing.

"It really isn't that serious," I said. "He was just acting like a dick and—"

"Which guy was it?" questioned Cameron.

"Uh, Johnny Knoxville," I replied.

"Is he the one that wears the sunglasses and the high-water?" she asked.

"Yeah," I laughed. "That's him."

"Okay, keep going. Tell me the rest," she said. I rolled my eyes, continuing my story.

"There really isn't anything to tell," I lied. "He wasn't too happy that Jeff was adding a girl to the show so I politely told him that I was just as equipped as he was to perform any of the stunts that were going to be on the show. End of story." Cameron eyed me, not buying my story for a second.

"Bullshit," she said. "You have never said anything _politely_ in your entire life."

"Well, that is exactly what happened," I said.

"Seriously, what happened?!" Cameron whined. I groaned as she continued to whine and whine about how I never tell her anything and she thought we were friends and how she was never going to tell me anything ever again.

"Fine!" I finally shouted. "Johnny didn't want a girl on the cast, so I told him just because I didn't have a dick didn't mean I couldn't do any of the stupid shit he could. Then he started acting like he was some megastar and I should have known who he was, so I called him out for being a prick. Then he tried to apologize and I don't even know what happened, but he called me a bitch so I threw some whiskey in his face. That is what really happened." For a second, Cameron shut up. She was satisfied that I had told her the story of what actually happened at the meeting. But after she realized what I had just said, she started flipping out all over again.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Al? You had to throw a drink in his face, didn't you?" she scolded. "You only knew him for a couple of hours! What could he have possibly done to get a drink in the face?"

"I told you!" I said. "He called me a bitch!"

"Alex, you can be a bitch," she said with a laugh. Okay, she was right about that one. I _was_ acting like a bitch towards Johnny, but I couldn't help myself. Something about him made me really angry. No—I felt like I had to prove myself to him. It was like he thought all the girls in the entire world were just like his fiancée and those other girls at the meeting. It was like he was just wanted me to put on a short dress and keep my mouth shut. But when filming started, he would see that I wasn't like any of those other ditsy girls. I could keep up with the boys and I would represent every other girl in the world who could do the same.

"If you were in my position, you would have done the same," I told Cam. "I swear, if you saw the smug look on this prick's face, you would have wanted to punch him square in the jaw."

"It is called self control, Al," Cam said, shaking her head wildly. "I might have wanted to slit his throat, but I wouldn't have done it! If you lose this job, I swear to God—"

"I'm not!" I promised. "I am cool with the director. All the other guys are awesome. It is just Johnny. But I will tolerate him as long as he doesn't try to start shit with me—"

"And you don't start shit with him," Cameron hissed. I laughed. She had so much faith in me.

"You know, this is why we are friends, Cam. We work well together." I said, still chuckling. "Whenever I get a little too full of myself, there you are, ready to knock me back down."

"I'll always be here for you, ready to remind you what a fuck up you are," Cam joked, throwing her arm over my shoulder. "Even when you become a huge Hollywood movie star and you forget all about little old me."

"How could I forget about the person who hasn't left me alone for the past ten years?" I said. She stuck her tongue out at me, getting off the couch.

"So you promise you aren't going to getting into anymore _verbal altercations_ with any of the other guys?" Cameron said. "Because if you miss out on this awesome opportunity, I am seriously going kick your ass." She cared about this whole Jackass thing more than I did. I understood where she was coming from, though. This job meant more money, more fun, and an all around better life. Who would sneer at the chance go get all of that?

"Scout's honor," I said sarcastically. "But really, I don't have any problems with the other guys. One of them drove me all the way over here. And we had friendly conversation the whole time. Except for when Steve starting puking in the backseat—"

"Steve?" Cam said, her jaw dropping. "Like Steve-O?" I nodded, conforming that she was correct. "That is so weird. He was just some guy on TV and now he is some guy that you hang out with. Wait till the guys at work here about this. I can imagine their faces when you tell them you were chilling with Steve-O! They are going to be mad jealous!" I shook my head as she laughed wildly. But suddenly she stopped, realizing something. "What am I talking about!" she said. "You aren't coming back to the skate shop. You are working for Jeff-fucking-Tremaine now!"

"I don't know about that one, Cam," I said, momentarily bursting her bubble. "This whole Jackass thing could fall though tomorrow. I think I am going to try to keep my job until I have secured my spot on Jackass." Cameron sighed, telling me that I already had the spot on the show and I should stop worrying so much.

"If Jeff didn't want you on the show, he wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of hunting you down and asking you to join the cast," she said. "You know, when I saw Jeff in the bar, I knew he looked familiar. But I wouldn't have ever guessed he was the guy from Big Brother Magazine! I have seen him in there tons of times." I agreed. I read the skating magazine from time to time and I had definitely seen Jeff's picture before. That was probably why I knew I had seen him around somewhere.

"So, that was all that happened at the meeting?" Cameron said, poking a little more, hoping I would give her some more gossip. "Who drove you home?"

"Chris Pontius," I said with a yawn.

"Oh, Party Boy!" she said excitedly. I looked at her with wide eyes.

"I'm guessing I would have to watch the show to get it," I said. Cameron nodded. "I'll put that on my to-do list. Right under bake a batch of cookies in for Knoxville to apologize for what a meany I was," I mocked. Cameron just shook her head.

"You are so difficult, Alex," she said before walking to her bedroom. She grabbed some pajamas from her room and tossed them to me. "See you in the morning," she called.

"Good night," I said, dressing in her clothes, which fit me awkwardly. Cam was shorter than me, so the pants only came to my ankles and the top ended at my belly button. I laughed when I looked down at myself. It was like I was dressed in my little sister's clothes or something. I chuckled, lying back on my mattress that was on the floor of the main room.

It was hard for me to fall asleep. My mind was going one hundred miles per hour. I couldn't help but wonder why Van was at my apartment after I told him I never wanted to see him again. Was he really so stupid that he was going to ask for me to take him back? I didn't even want to speak to him and I would _never _be able to date him again. All his apologies were lies. He wasn't sorry for cheating on me, he was only sorry he got caught. And even if he was truly sorry for what he did, I would never be able to look at him again without reliving the anger, humiliation, and sadness I felt when I saw him laying in our bed with another woman. Just thinking about it now made me feel livid.

But as I tried to push that thought from my head, it was only replaced by more worries. I was stressing about my new job on Jackass. Mostly, I was stressing about my fight with Johnny. Maybe I had judged him too early. Maybe I should have just stayed quiet instead of calling him out every time he said something that rubbed me the wrong way. But if I did that, I wouldn't have been staying true to myself. Alexandra Kidd doesn't keep quiet when she feels like she is being attacked. But there was a fine line between being myself and being just plain obnoxious. I hoped I didn't cross that line, but I felt like I did.

I stared out the window, seeing the faint blue and red flashing of a cop car alarm. "Home, sweet home," I muttered. So much had changed in these couple of days. But no matter what, this little apartment in East LA would always be the same. No matter how good or bad things got, I would always have my past to hang onto. And as much as I hated the thought of more drastic changes waiting for me in the future, I couldn't help but feel that something big was going to happen. Something good. And it was so close that I could almost taste it. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out all my thoughts. And after what seemed like hours, I finally fell asleep.

The next morning I decided to head back to my place. I didn't want to impose on Cameron by staying with her any longer, and I didn't want to have to borrow anymore of her ill-fitting clothes. So at about noon, I took off. I walked for about twenty minutes to get to my apartment building. And of course, when I got there, Van's car was still in the parking lot.

"Fuck," I muttered. I wasn't going to turn back like I did the other night. I would go right into my apartment because it was _mine. _My name was one the lease and I paid the bills. I would just go right in there and tell him to get the fuck out. Easy as that. But as I walked up the stairs, I couldn't help but feel nervous. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to hear anymore of his excuses. I was completely done with him and I just wanted him to be out of my life forever. But I knew he wasn't going to let that happen.

I took a deep breath as I arrived at the door of my apartment and I walked in. But to my surprise, Van wasn't sitting on the couch, waiting for me to walk in like I thought he would be. He was on the phone, yelling at someone. I sighed. He was probably fighting with the landlord over rent, or maybe he was yelling at some other bill collector.

"Oh, really?" I heard Van yell into the phone. "Well she's fucking busy! And don't call back here, okay?" _Wait…was he talking about me?_ I stared at him while he continued to scream into the phone. Then I realized who he was talking to: Jeff.

"Give me the phone, Van!" I shouted. Too late. He slammed the phone down, hanging it up and ending his conversation with my new boss. I was so angry I couldn't think straight. How could he do that? It was bad enough that Van had to come into my life, play with my emotions, and then cheat on me, but now he was going to try to fuck with my new gig on Jackass? No way. "You are such an asshole, Van! Why the hell did you do that?" I screamed, marching up to him.

"I'm sorry for being angry when some other guy calls and asks for my girlfriend!" he shouted back. My jaw dropped. This guy was seriously delusional I he thought we were still together.

"Are you for real, Van?" I said. "We are over. I'm sorry ever met you!" Van dismissed what I had just said, immediately forming some accusations of his own.

"Are you screwing that guy that called? Is that why you are acting like this?" he questioned.

"He is my new boss, you asshole!" I yelled. "And I shouldn't even be explaining this to you. I'm really done Van. Get your shit and leave." He stared at me, seeing if I was serious or not. He must have thought I was a really pathetic chick if he thought I was going to catch him cheating on me and then let him back into my life like nothing happened. I just stood in the living room, giving him another second to come to his senses and just go grab his things and leave. But he didn't. I was getting really tired of this and I was about ready to physically push him out the door.

"Fine," I said, stomping into our bedroom. "If you aren't going to leave than I am throwing your ass out!" I entered our bedroom, grabbing any of Van's stuff I saw. Before he could stop me, I tossed it out an open window. I knew that this would make him furious, but I was so enraged that I didn't care. I wanted him to get pissed off.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" he shouted. I didn't respond to him. I just continued to gather Van's belongings and throw them out the window. I think what I was doing was pretty clear. But before I could toss the last of his clothes out the window, he grabbed me, pinning me against the wall. "You are a real bitch, you know that?" he said, laughing sadistically in my face. "I begged for you to take me a back and now you are going to throw my shit outside? I love you Alex! And you love me—"

"I never loved you," I hissed as he pressed me against the wall. Van didn't hesitate. He just slapped me across the face. I felt the sting of the hit immediately. I gasped, taken off guard by his sudden act of violence.

"You never loved me?" he questioned, his face inches away from mine. "That is bullshit, Alex. Bullshit." He grabbed me by the chin, forcing me to look at him. I tried to break free from his grasp but he was stronger than me. I cringed as he pressed his lips against mine.

"You're a sick bastard!" I shouted, pulling my face away from his. I still couldn't get Van off of me, so I did all I could. I spit in his face.

After that, Van let go of me. He staggered, taking a few steps away from me. I looked down at my wrists. They were red from the tight grip Van had on them. My face was still burning from where he slapped me. I touched the skin on my cheek tenderly, cringing at how it stung. I couldn't believe Van just did that. I looked at him, hatred in my eyes. His eyes were round like he was shocked at what he just did. He opened his mouth, probably getting ready to apologize again, but I wouldn't let him.

"Please, Van," I said. "Please go. And don't come back. Don't try to talk to me, or visit me, or contact me in any other way." I shook my head, looking at him with disgust. "You make me sick," I snarled. And for once, Van didn't say anything back. He just left. He angrily pushed over furniture as he left, swearing and yelling. But still, he walked out the door. I felt relieved. I felt scared. I felt confused.

After I was sure he was gone, I closed my eyes, sliding down to the floor. I just laid there with my eyes closed. I kept pressing my hand against my cheek, feeling the raw skin throbbing under my fingertips. None of this felt real. Stuff like this didn't happen to me. I wasn't weak. I wasn't going to let some guy hit me. But here I was.

I felt like dying.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

I dialed Jeff's phone number, feeling anxious. It had been about an hour or two since Van left and I had to make sure that Jeff wasn't freaking out about the conversation he had with my ex."Hey, Jeff?" I spoke once I had gotten a hold of him. On the other line, he sounded beyond relieved. I was just happy that he wasn't angry at me.

"Oh my God, Alex!" he said, sighing with relief. "I thought something happened to you! I swear, if I didn't get a call from you in the next fifteen minutes, I was going to drive over to your place!" I was glad he didn't do that. I could imagine the look on his face when he saw how disheveled my apartment was after my fight with Van. "Well, what the hell _did _happen? Are you okay?" I bit my tongue. I probably shouldn't tell him the truth. No…telling him my crazy ex-boyfriend had talked to him wasn't a good idea. I quickly made up a lie.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly, hoping Jeff didn't sense I was lying. "Just great."

"Who was that guy I was talking to?" Jeff said. "He was crazy! I just told him I needed to speak to you and he started shouting at me and saying you wouldn't be able to talk for a while. That guy could have been a serial killer for all I knew…" I sighed. Jeff was too much, but I guess I was glad that he was worried about me. I could really count on him.

"Um, that was just my landlord," I said. "He was mad because I didn't pay rent last month. So he came in here to get the money and you happened to call and—"

"He said you were his girlfriend," Jeff added. _Damn. _What was I going to say now? I was never good at thinking on my toes.

"He's…schizophrenic," I said, mentally kicking myself for how stupid my lie was. "I wouldn't really worry about what that schizo said." Jeff took a pause.

"Well…okay," he said. I wasn't sure if he believed my lie but he stopped asking questions, and that was good enough for me.

"So," I started, trying to quickly change the subject, "did you work out the details of the Jackass schedule?" There was another pause. This couldn't be good. I was anticipating the worse. Jeff had probably talked with some people that worked for MTV and they decided not to put me on the show. I bit my lower lip, hoping that wasn't the case.

"Yeah, about that," Jeff started. "I went to talk to some executives at MTV. I gave them the schedule we settled on and let me tell you, they were less than happy. Apparently, they thought we were already filming months ago. So, we need to push our film date forward. I know I said we were going to start filming in a month, but I had to change it to meet MTV's deadlines. We are going to start shooting this Friday."

"Friday?" I questioned. "But that is in three days!"

"I know, I know," he said. "But there isn't any way around it. When MTV wants us to do something, we have to do it. It isn't negotiable. They threatened to cut the show if we didn't start filming sooner. And that can't happen." I sighed.

"Your right," I agreed. "I guess that is why you are the director and I am the…jackass." He laughed on the other line.

"Exactly," he replied. "But I've got good news, too."

"What?" I said. I could use some good news. Today wasn't turning out to be a very good day so far. Maybe Jeff could tell me something that would change my mood.

"I making tons of money off you," Jeff snickered. I sighed. Hearing that my Porsche driving boss was making even more cash didn't exactly lift my mood. "TMZ paid thousands to get information about the new Jackass member. I sold them a couple of pictures of you, and I told them your name and other basic details about you. So now it is official. You are a Jackass." I smiled, holding the phone to my ear.

"No backing out now," I said.

"You have been locked in since the moment you signed all those contracts with MTV," Jeff laughed. On the day Jeff picked me up to go to the first Jackass meeting, he came equipped with a huge stack of papers I had to sign. That included a personal information sheet and a gigantic contract with MTV. I didn't even attempt reading it and it wasn't like I had a lawyer to review it for me. For all I knew, I could have signed away my life to MTV. Actually, I am pretty sure I did sell my soul to MTV. "So I hope you know what this all means, Al."

"Um…" I started. "I can't say that I do." Jeff laughed.

"Let's just say your life is going to be a lot different from now on." I raised an eyebrow, not one hundred percent sure what he was talking about. "TMZ has been spreading the news about you joining the Jackass cast for the past couple of hours," Jeff explained. "Expect to be approached by a Jackass fan or two the next time you go out. Maybe you'll even get flagged down by the paparazzi—"

"I thought you said this was good news?" I sighed. Sure, I guess it was cool that Jeff had started to get the news out about me joining the cast, but I didn't think I was ready to start being followed by paparazzi. The idea just seemed weird to me. I couldn't imagine people wanting to take pictures of me. I couldn't imagine people wanting to read magazine articles about me. But I knew one thing for sure; I was going to give them a lot to read about.

"It isn't all bad," Jeff said, trying to comfort me. "I promise, after a while, you forget that you are constantly being followed around by photographers." I groaned with displeasure. Jeff laughed. "I was just trying to help, Al. But I should just stick to directing. Well, I've got to go, but I guess I will see you this Friday."

"See you then." I hung up the phone, taking a deep breath. This was all happening to fast. Life was going too fast. But there was no way to slow it down. I would just have to try to keep up. I looked around the apartment, seeing the knocked over furniture and the other items that were strewn all over the place. I probably should have started cleaning it up, but I didn't. Instead, I walked to the bathroom.

I flicked the light switch on, immediately seeing my reflection in the mirror. My left cheek was a bright red color. There was a cut on my face—probably from Van's nails—that was covered in dried blood. He hit me so hard, my skin was already bruising. I looked down at my palms, not wanting to see my face anymore. My hands were shaking. I couldn't handle all this right now. It was all too much. The new job, the new asshole coworker, the old boyfriend—I was lost.

I turned on the sink, splashing my face with water, pretending I didn't feel the sharp burning on my face. Maybe I _did_ love Van. Maybe that is what made this so hard. I didn't understand how someone who I had been with for such a long time could change so quickly. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. How could someone say they love you one minute and then hurt you the next?

I felt a stray tear fall down my cheek.

I hated crying. I hated feeling weak. Van knew that. That was why he was doing this. He knew how I hated feeling like I was defenseless. I always wanted to be in control and when he was pinning me to the wall—when he was _hurting _me—I was powerless. Vulnerable. Unarmed. Exposed. It made me feel sick. I never wanted to feel that weak again. I would never let Van do that to me again.

I wiped away my tears on a towel, taking a deep breath. I felt frustrated. I felt angry. A part of me hoped that Van came back here. I wanted to make him pay for what he did to me. I wanted him to feel defenseless. I wanted to make him hurt like he made me hurt. I wanted him to have to walk around with bruises on him. And then every time he saw his bruised complexion in the mirror he would remember me. He would remember that he will never touch me again. Just as I contemplated the thought, I heard a knock at the door.

_Van._

It was him. It had to be him. Cameron never showed up unannounced and no one else would be visiting me. For a moment, I felt frantic. I didn't know what to do. Should I just pretend I wasn't home? Should I just not answer the door? What if he waited out there for me? I couldn't hide forever, could I? But I told myself I couldn't run from Van. I would have to face him sooner or later. Why not do it now?

I walked over to the door, but I wasn't unarmed. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, just in case I needed it. Then I answered the door. To my surprise—and relief—it wasn't Van at the door. It was…Steve-O?

"Steve, what the fuck are you…why are you…" I started, but I quickly realized that he wasn't listening to a word I said. He was too focused on the fact that I was holding a six inch long butcher knife. I decided it was a little too late to try and hide the weapon behind my back, so I tried to make up an excuse. "I was just cutting…a watermelon…in the kitchen…"

"Okay, I thought maybe you just greeted all your guests with a huge knife," he snickered. But then he looked at me and his eyes grew wide. My hand instantly went to my cheek. "Damn! What the fuck happened to your face, Alex?" I sighed.

"Why don't you come in," I said, stalling for a minute. Steve walked into my apartment. Then I remembered that the place was a complete mess after my fight with Van. I had to make up a really good lie to cover up all this shit. "I was so wasted last night," I lied, flipping the couch so Steve could sit on it. "I don't even remember what happened. I just came home and I was tripping all over the place. I must have cut my face on the coffee table or something." On the inside, I was applauding how solid my lie was.

"Seriously?" Steve said, sitting down on the couch once it was right side up. "Chris told me I was the only one that got trashed at the meeting last night. He is such a dick…"_Damn! _I forgot that there was a whole roomful of guys that knew I was pretty much sober last night. Luckily, Steve-O was so drunk during the meeting he probably didn't remember how tipsy I was. "I have taken a few falls while I was drinking, but that one looks pretty bad." I put my hand to my face.

"It'll heal up in a couple of days," I said, rubbing it. I sat down next to Steve on the couch. "Strong immune system." He laughed. "But why are you over here? And more importantly, how the fuck do you know where I live?"

"Information sheet," Steve said casually. "I found the paper you filled out when Jeff gave the job on Jackass. So I know your address, you phone number, your birthday, and your social security number." That was lovely. I was glad Jeff was keeping all my personal information in such a secure place that Steve could find it. That was really comforting.

"I hate birthdays," I said. I hadn't celebrated one in years. "Don't tell other people, okay?"

"I fucking despise birthdays," Steve said in a raspy tone. "It just another day, you know? So I guess your secret is safe with me." I wasn't too concerned about Steve having my phone number or my social—my credit sucked anyway—but the idea of him telling the whole Jackass cast when it was my birthday made me a little nervous. I had never been big on birthdays. Ever since Solo died, I had avoided telling people when my birthday was at all cost. I didn't want to be reminded that I was seeing another year that my brother never got to see, but I was glad Steve shared my views on birthdays. "But I just I decided to come by to say hi. I barely remember meeting you last night. I was beyond wasted." I chuckled.

"You were just having fun," I said. I wasn't mad at Steve for getting wasted last night. I wasn't expecting him to be on his best behavior for me. I probably should have had a little more to drink at that meeting. Maybe if I was a little tipsy and I was feeling little more laidback I wouldn't have gotten into a fight with Johnny. "There are a lot of times when it is easier to be drunk." I added with a sigh, looking off into space. I could have gone for a drink right then. Maybe my mind would have stopped wondering back to that bastard Van every five seconds.

"Is someone having trouble adjusting to the new Jackass lifestyle?" Steve-O questioned. "I might have been pretty drunk, but Chris reminded me of your fight with Knoxville. And if that is bothering you, it shouldn't be." I had been so wrapped up in my drama with Van that my disagreement with Johnny didn't seem very important. My fight with him seemed miniscule compared to my fight with Van.

"It isn't bothering me," I said, shaking my head. "He's a prick. It only bothers me when he acts like a prick to me." Steve laughed. "It wouldn't bother me if he genuinely disliked me. But I feel like it is just because I'm a chick."

"Nah. Trust me, Johnny _loves_ girls," Steve said. I rolled me eyes. "No really, Al," he continued, "He is pretty cool. You'll end up liking him." I guess everyone on the Jackass cast thought it was impossible for someone to dislike Johnny Knoxville. But if he was such a rad dude, than why was he acting like such an asshole last night? Or maybe I was just being oversensitive.

"I've been told," I said, rubbing my eyes and yawning. "But I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you." I laid back on the couch, brushing my hair out of my face.

"No, Al!" Steve demanded. "Filming is going to fucking suck if you are fighting with Johnny the whole time. You have got to start getting along with him." I sighed. "We've already got Bam and Ehren fighting like crazy, we don't need you and Johnny doing the same thing. Shooting is supposed to be fun, but no amount of booze makes a fight between a dude and a chick any less awkward."

"Well I'm sorry for ruining your fun," I snorted. Steve elbowed me.

"You should be," he said, but suddenly a huge smile appeared on his face. "I've got an idea! Let's all go out tonight. It can be a stress free night. We won't even talk about schedules or MTV or anything to do with Jackass. Just you, me, the guys, and a bunch of brewskies. You can't turn that down. And maybe you can start smoothing things over with Knoxville." I shook my head.

"It's going to take more than a few beers to make Knoxville seem like a friendly guy," I said sarcastically. "How about we do a few lines instead—"

"We can do that," Steve said, his eyes lighting up. At first I wasn't sure if he was serious, but after looking at him closely I could tell he was being completely honest. That was…_strange._ I wasn't exactly put off by the fact that Steve had just offered me cocaine, just a little surprised. I hadn't touched that stuff in a while. It was weird having someone offer it to me so quickly.

"Are you a cokehead or something, Steve?" I said, chuckling uneasily just to make the statement seem like it was coming from a friendly place instead of a judgmental place.

"Nah," he said. "I'm really just your run of the mill stoner." I laughed. Everyone in California was a stoner. Getting a toke was cheaper and easier than a carton of cigarettes these days. "But I like to have some real fun ever now and then."

"Who doesn't?" I said. When I first moved out to LA, I was trying drugs I had never even heard of before. It was hard to resist. I was young and I was hurting and drugs were an easy way to feel better. After a few months, I weaned myself off of the hard stuff. I had gotten a job and I found it impossible to go to work when I was still tweaking from a hit I had taken at a party the night before. Bills were piling up and I couldn't be wasting money on bad habits I couldn't afford. So, slowly but surely, I just stopped. I had never really thought about going back to it. Now that I was going to be making more money, it would certainly be easier to afford.

"Well, whatever," Steve said. "Whether you want a beer or something a little stronger, we are going out tonight." I sighed at his persistence. It seemed like I wasn't going to be able to get out of this one. Honestly, going out was the last thing I should have been doing. I should have been staying at home and contemplating what I was going to do about Van. But maybe going out was what I needed. Going out with the guys and getting wasted seemed like a good way to forget about my problems for a while.

"Alright, Steve," I said with a sigh. "I guess you are going to have to show me how you Jackass boys party." He shouted excitedly.

"We are having some fun tonight!" he said. "Al, are there any good bars out here in the East? You got any clubs you go to or anything?" I thought about it for a moment. There were a lot of bars in East LA, but there wasn't much of a club scene. But honestly, The Backroom was the only bar I frequented with Cam.

"Well there is this one place," I said. "It is a real shithole, but I love it. It is called The Backroom. It is the place where I met Jeff—" Steve started laughing hysterically.

"You mean the place where you smashed the fuck out Jeff's Porsche?" he said. I nodded quickly, a smile on my face. "Al, you must be crazy as hell to have done that. I know Tremaine and I wouldn't have done that. And you went and did it for no reason at all."

"I had a reason!" I interjected. "My friend bet me to! And I got fifty bucks out of it." Steve shook his head, grinning wildly. "And you know what, I am glad I did it, because if I didn't I wouldn't be on Jackass, now would I?" Steve agreed.

"You're still crazy, but now you're crazy with a new job and fifty bucks," he said. I laughed. When he said it like that, I did seem like I was pretty crazy.

"I don't like the word _crazy_," I mused. "How about…wild? No—_spontaneous!_"

"No, you're fucking crazy," he said. I stuck my tongue out at him. "But I'm crazy too. I think everyone on Jackass is crazy, so you'll fit right in." _That is comforting, _I thought sarcastically. "But I'll call up the rest of the guys. We are going to The Backroom tonight. We'll meet you there around…eleven?" he said. I nodded.

"Eleven works for me," I said as he stood up, walking towards the door.

"And remember Al," he said before leaving. "If you ever need a fix, give me a call." I nodded, giving him a quick smile. He chuckled, leaving my apartment.

A fix was exactly what I needed.


	4. Fuck You Tough Guy (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Four: Fuck You Tough Guy (Johnny)_

"Friday? No way, Johnny. No way," Naomi said, shaking her head in disbelief. I was sitting on a couch in her apartment as she got ready. We were planning on going out and getting dinner together, but after I told her about the change in the Jackass schedule, she said she lost her apatite."My sister is coming down here on Friday. You have never even met my sister! I'm up to hear with your work schedule. I have been nothing but patient when it came to all the stuff you are doing with that show, but I have to put my foot down!" Naomi was stomping around her apartment, slamming doors and flinging things around. I felt like I was being scolded by my mom. I guess I was getting a preview of what married life would be like.

"Well, I can't change it, babe. The date is already set. I have to be there, it is for my work," I spoke calmly, but Naomi wasn't having it. There was no talking to her when she got like this. I would be wrong no matter what I said. After I spoke, she threw her hands in the air, a disgusted look on her face.

"Work?" she said, her lips curling as if it was paining her to speak. "That is what you are going to call it now? It is just you and your friends dicking around on camera!" I was tempted to tell her that all that _dicking around _I was doing had paid for the ring on her finger, but I decided against it. If I knew anything about girls it was that talking about how much money you were making was the last thing to do during a fight. That would have just made things ten times worse.

"Naomi, I will come straight home after filming and we can go out with your sister," I said, trying to negotiate with her. It was a lost cause, but I still tried. She could be so stubborn sometimes. When she thought she was right, there was no changing her mind about it.

"That is a lie and you know it," she yelled, crossing her arms. "Anytime you have to film for Jackass, you stay out all night. You will tell me you are going to come over at ten, but ten will go by, and eleven will go by, and midnight will go by, and all of a sudden it is three in the morning and you call me and say you went out drinking with the boys! Is that fair, Johnny? Tell me that is fair!"

"Wow, Naomi," I said, standing up from the couch. "I am over here every day and I am on the phone with you ever hour. I want to go to the bar after work and I am the bad guy? What the fuck—"

"Don't talk to me like that," she snarled. She sounded like the same prissy little rich girl she was when I met her. "All I do is try to be a good fiancée, and that is how you are going to talk to me? In my own apartment? I don't think so…"

"A good fiancée?" I shouted, growing angrier by the second. "All you do is boss me around like you're my mother! You tell when I have to meet with the wedding planner. You say when I have to see your relatives. Next thing I know you're going to be telling me when I'm allowed to take a piss—"

"Don't even give me that, Johnny," she said ignorantly. "You can't blame me for everything that is wrong in our relationship. You need to grow up and learn how to deal with our problems like a man, because all this swearing and finger pointing is getting pretty old." I couldn't believe she was actually saying this. I did whatever she told me to, whenever she told me to do it. I waited on her like I was her slave. I jumped through hoops for her. Everyone I knew was telling me that she was treating me like shit, but I never listened to them. Maybe they were all right. Regardless, I couldn't deal with her right now.

"Whatever, Naomi. I'm leaving," I said, heading for the door. Naomi stared at me, her expression changing from angry to sad instantly. Her eyes got all wide and round. I didn't want to look at her because I knew she would make me feel guilty, so I just kept walking.

"But, Johnny. I thought we were going out?" she said sheepishly, realizing just how pissed she had made me. I didn't reply to her. I didn't even listen to her. I just walked right out the door, my fists clenched. She didn't follow me.

I stomped to my car, fuming from my fight with Naomi. She was so—_ugh_. I couldn't even describe it. When she was good, she was perfect, but when she was bad, she made me want to jump out of a window. She would just nag and nag and nag and turn everything on me. Everything was my fault and I was always wronging her and I was the worst guy in the world. She would just go on and on about how terrible I was until I apologized. But I wasn't apologizing anymore. I didn't do anything wrong.

_Except for propose to her._

I felt bad for thinking that. I didn't mean it. I kept telling myself that I did want to marry her as I got into my car. We were just fighting. We would work everything out. But right now, I just had to talk to someone that _wasn't _Naomi. So I drove around for a while before deciding to go over to Bam's house. He was from West Chester, but when we were filming he had a place in LA where he stayed. I knew he would be home. Like most of the other Jackass guys, he slept in as late as humanly possible and then went out when it was about midnight. It was only about nine o'clock at night. _He's probably just getting up, _I thought with a smile, happy to be thinking about anything that didn't involve weddings.

I pulled into Bam's driveway. He had a nice house, though it was severely lacking in the maintenance department. Beer cans were strewn across the lawn and for some reason there was a smashed TV in the middle of the driveway, which I was careful to avoid hitting with my car. I walked across his yard, stepping over broken skateboard decks, before knocking on the front door. Bam answered after a few moments. "Hey buddy," he said. He had a can of beer in his hand and his hair was a mess. He was probably getting ready to start another week of binge drinking. "I haven't seen you out at night in fucking ages," he continued. "The fiancée let you off your leash for a night?" I laughed as he let me into his house. He had no idea.

"I let myself off my leash," I said, stepping into the living room. Bam was suddenly interested. I sat down on a couch and he sat down across from me.

"What happened?" he asked, sipping from his can of beer. "Did you dump her?"

"No," I said. "She got all pissed when she found out that Jeff pushed forward our filming schedule. She was flipping out and saying that I go out too drinking too much or some shit. So I left." Bam smiled, laughing wildly.

"That is probably the first time you have ever stood up to her," Bam said. "Congratulations on growing a pair." I just shook my head, laughing. "So what are you going to do now? Go looking for a new chick or something?" I thought about it for a minute.

"No. I told you, we didn't break up. We just had a fight," I said, "I will probably go talk to her tomorrow morning. I'll apologize or something…maybe I will go tonight. I don't want her to be worried about me." Bam rolled his eyes.

"Are you fucking joking?" he said. "No, dude! You need to stay strong! Your Johnny-fucking-Knoxville! You could be getting a different chick every night! Let Naomi come to you. You can't let her wear the pants in your relationship." I hated to say it, but Naomi was most definitely in charge of our relationship. She made the decisions and she settled the arguments. She was always right and I always had to agree with her. But I couldn't see myself trying to control Naomi. She would never let me.

"Is that how you keep Missy in line?" I laughed. "She lets you do whatever you want. And she is still head over heels for you. Whatever you are doing to her, you have got to teach me."

"I don't have any tricks, but I will tell you this. I've got a bitch for everyday of the week and two for Sunday. Missy sticks around because she wants to," he said. "I think some girls don't like being treated special." I stifled a chuckle. Bam was insane if he thought there were girls who wanted to be cheated on and treated like shit.

"I thought you loved her?" I said, raising an eyebrow at him. Everyone knew she loved him, but I wasn't too sure if he gave a fuck about her.

"I do," Bam sighed. "But all the girls in California…they are expendable. If Missy leaves, I have got another girl just waiting to be my girlfriend." I grinned, shaking my head. That was pretty cocky, but sadly enough, it was true.

"You're living the good life, my man," I said to Bam. You could argue that he was living a very, very, _very _pathetic, shallow, and even disgusting life, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"You could be too," he said. "The girls love you, Knox. And you know it." I shook my head, denying it, but Bam protested. Okay, I kind of knew that girls' hit on my from time to time, but for Naomi's sake, I pretended I didn't realize it. I wasn't stupid enough to pay any attention to any of the groupies that followed us around. I knew why those girls always hit on me when we were at bars and clubs. They weren't flirting with me because they thought I was a catch or something, they just want to say they screwed around with someone that has been on TV before.

"But I love Naomi," I said plainly. That was a pretty weak excuse in Bam's eyes.

"You love the idea of having someone to go home to," Bam said. He was right. The idea having no one was kind of scary, but I wasn't going to admit that to him. "You can have your cake and eat it too, Johnny. Why tie yourself down to one girl? I mean, you could be getting ass every night, bro. If Steve-O is getting laid, you could be getting laid." I was starting to think Bam was a bad influence.

"I still love Naomi," I repeated. Bam sighed.

"Whatever," he said. "At least come out with us tonight. We are going to some bar. You remember what a bar is, don't you? They're those places where they have alcohol and girls with no standards. You used to like them before Naomi took your balls and put them in her handbag." I laughed. Naomi said I went out too much, Bam says I don't go out enough. I wondered if there was a happy medium between the two, but I had a feeling there wasn't.

"Yes, I remember what a bar is, asshole," I said. "Where are you guys going?"

"I don't remember what it is called," Bam said. "It is some real shithole though."

"My favorite," I said. I would rather go to some small bar than a big Hollywood club any day of the week. They were less pretentious, the drinks were stiffer, and they were always more fun.

"You know, I think it is the bar where Jeff met Alex. I think that is what Steve said," Bam began to explain. Oh right, the new girl.

"Is she coming?" I asked, trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing, even though I was thinking about how angry Alex had made me the first time we met.

"Of course she is coming," Bam said. "We've got to get her good and wasted so we can see how she holds her liquor. I hope she is a slutty drunk. Maybe she will take her shirt off." I just shook my head, unhappy that I was going to have to be around Alex and slightly put off by Bam's last statement.

"I don't know, Bam," I said, second guessing this whole Jackass-cast-party thing. "Naomi is probably wondering where I am and I didn't hit it off with Alex. I better just skip this one." Bam groaned.

"Oh, come on, Knoxville!" he shouted. "You tell Naomi off and then go back to her within an hour. No way, I won't let you. You are going out with us and you are going to get wasted and if you decide to fuck some random chick, no one is going to tell Naomi."

"I'm not going to cheat on her," I told Bam. "I can't. I'm not that big of a prick." Bam just rolled his eyes. "And I'm ignoring Alex."

"She isn't that bad," Bam said. "I thought she was pretty wicked."

"You were wasted," I said, "so all your opinions were clouded by a gallon of whiskey."

"Well, I remember her throwing a drink in your face perfectly clearly," he said. "That was fucking awesome. I haven't met on chick in LA that would stand up for herself if she felt like some guy was treating her like shit. You have to give her props for that." I didn't have to give her _props_ for anything. And I definitely was going to praise her for throwing a drink in my face.

"She's crazy. I could have gone blind from getting whiskey in my eyes!" I said. Bam just laughed. "You know, she is more stubborn than Naomi is. I don't know how I am going to get through filming with that chick on my case."

"I like her," Bam replied, tossing his now empty can of beer to the floor.

"Yeah, you just like her because she has two legs that you can potentially spread," I snarled.

"I guess she is pretty hot," Bam said, entertaining my statement. "I'm mean, she's a tomboy. But it is kind of sexy. She's got an attitude. There's definitely something edgy about her. I don't know if I would keep her around, but I would hit it. She's got a pretty face and a nice body, you know?"

"She isn't going to sleep with you," I said in a deadpan tone.

"If I really wanted too, I bet I could get her—" Bam started, but then he stopped. "Wait, how do you know who she wants to sleep with?"

"I don't," I said. "But just look at her, Bam. She is a skater. She could care less about a guy like you. And besides, why would you want to fuck her? I'm pretty sure she is insane."

"You are just mad because most girls you meet don't tell you when your acting like a dickhead, and Alex did." I sighed. I didn't care what Alex said or what Alex thought. I didn't care about how hot she was or how sexy her I-don't-give-a-shit personality was. I didn't care about Alex at all. She was just another person that was going to be on set and I hoped she wouldn't cause anymore unnecessary drama while filming Jackass. "So Johnny, are you coming or what?"

"Why not?" I said. There were about a million reasons why I shouldn't go. It was getting late, Naomi was probably worried about me, and she probably wouldn't want me to go. But tonight, I wasn't going to worry about all that stuff. I was just going to go out and try to have some fun.

"Well then let's go already!" Bam said. I sighed, heading back out to my car. I couldn't believe I had actually let Bam convince me to go out drinking, but I did. I didn't feel like partying with the guys, but I just drove in silence as Bam led the way to the bar. It was out in East LA, which was a lengthy drive. By the time we got there, all the other guys were already tipsy. No surprise there.

"Knoxville!" shouted Steve-O, throwing his arm around my shoulder. He had a bottle of beer in one of his hands and I could tell he was on something besides alcohol, which was pretty much normal for him. "I'm surprised to see you here! Your chick never lets you out of the house." I didn't comment, just gave Steve a quick smile. I was done talking about Naomi for the night.

Steve led us to the bar where the rest if the guys were. They were all there—even Jeff, who almost never came out with us. Alex was there, sitting on the edge of the bar and talking to the bartender. "Get my man a drink," Steve said to the bartender, patting me on the back. The bartender nodded. I looked at Alex for a moment, thinking it might break the icy tension between us, but I found that making eye contact with her was pretty uncomfortable. And after staring at her for a moment, I noticed a scratch on the side of her face. When she saw me looking at the mark on her cheek, she glared at me, her lips curling with discontent.

"Alex," I said, greeting her briefly.

"What are you doing here, cowboy?" she snarled at me. "All the guys said Naomi had you chained to her side." She brought new meaning to the term _passive aggressive._ I just gritted my teeth, telling myself not to say anything I would regret, and forced a smile. She smirked back at me. I realized I was completely unprepared to fight with this girl, so when the bartender handed me my drink I quickly grabbed it and sat at the other end of the bar. I didn't want to be subjected to anymore of Alex's shit for the rest of the night.

"Hey, Johnny," said Jeff, sitting next to me. I smiled at him, swirling the liquor around in my glass. I didn't feel like drinking. I didn't really feel like being at a bar all together. I wondered what I was even doing at a bar when I had an upset fiancée at home.

"Hey," I said, staring into the glass the bartender had just handed me.

"Glad you came out," Jeff said. He looked at me suspiciously for a moment. I had known Jeff longer than any of the other people who worked on Jackass. He could instantly tell that something was up with me. "What's wrong?" he asked. For such a short question, it was sure a complicated one.

"Huh?" I said, shaking my head. "Oh, nothing. It's just…nothing." I was a terrible liar.

"Tell me," Jeff said. I sighed, deciding to tell him what was really bothering me. I didn't want to go on about my problems with Naomi, but it seemed like I wasn't going to be able to avoid it. And if anyone was going to give me good advice, it would be Jeff.

"It is Naomi," I said. "She is mad that filming is starting Friday. She wanted me to meet one of her relatives. You know, she is just so…" I trailed off. He knew how she was. Everyone that worked on Jackass knew how she was. Jeff didn't need me to tell him.

"Well Johnny, if you can't film Friday, that is cool," Jeff said, trying to find a resolution for my problem. "We can film some bits without you."

"That isn't the point," I said. I knew all along that Jeff would have given me the time off, but I didn't want it. I couldn't keep readjusting my life around Naomi. She would have to make some sacrifices for me, too. All she did was take. It wasn't fair. "I have a job and she should just respect that. But she just has to push and push and push." Jeff sighed.

"Are you second guessing the engagement?" he asked. I had been second guessing the engagement since I first proposed to her. I know that sounds bad, but it's true.

"Well, yeah, but isn't that normal?" I said. Jeff looked at me like I was crazy.

"No," he said bluntly. "I never second guessed marrying Laura."

I sighed. "So you never fight with her?" Jeff laughed. Honestly, I had never seen the two of them fight. Of course, Jeff told me about the various disagreements they had, but they usually resolved them within a day or two. Naomi and I had problems when it came to resolving our differences.

"Yeah, we fight, but not like you and Naomi do," he said. "I mean, when I fight with Laura, it is like a…heated discussion. When you and Naomi fight, you guys get really angry. It isn't pretty to watch." Everyone on the cast had witnessed at least one fight between Naomi and me. We fought so much, it was pretty hard _not _to see us fight. But every time we got into an argument, things seemed to always escalate quickly. Jeff was right—it wasn't pretty.

"I don't know what to do, Jeff," I said. "It's like, I don't want to leave her, but I don't want to stay with her. We have a lot of problems to work out, but I think we can fix them. I really do love her. I love her more than anyone else in the world." Jeff nodded, thinking about what I had just said.

"You are the only one who knows how you feel," he replied. "I can't tell you what to do. But what I can tell you is that just because you love her doesn't mean you are ready to marry her. Just because you love someone doesn't mean you are right for each other." I sighed. I never really thought about that. I always tried to ignore the fact that Naomi might not be the right one for me. Now that I was trying to deal with the problem head on, the fact that I might not be the right husband for Naomi seemed quite possible. Maybe she needed someone with a more flexible schedule and a more laidback lifestyle. Maybe I needed someone who could understand my fast paced life. But I didn't think I would be getting a girl like that anytime soon.

"Just think about it," Jeff said, patting me on the back. "But not tonight. Because you're supposed to be having a premarital-stress-free night." I laughed. Even though Naomi wasn't here, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her. It was like she was in my head. I stared at the full glass of whiskey that was sitting in front of me. I just wasn't in a partying mood.

The rest of the night drudged by at an incredibly slow pace. I just sat at the bar, partially listening to the conversations around me. I watched as the other guys drank, acting reckless as usual. Alex seemed to fit right in. She wasn't drinking, but she was keeping up with the other guys. She would joke around with them and they treated her just like any of the other Jackass guys. I thought it would be kind of weird seeing a girl partying with a group of guys, but it wasn't. Alex was acting completely natural. Jeff had an eye for finding jackasses.

But still, I was completely zoned out, watching the ice cubes in my glass melt when I heard Alex say she was going out to take a smoke. But just like every other conversation that night, the words went in one of my ears and out the other. I stared blankly as Alex left the bar, still thinking about my fight with Naomi. I was glad that the other guys were having a good time. I didn't want to be the one to ruin their night with my shitty love life, but then again, I didn't really want to come out in the first place. All the guys were so wasted, they probably wouldn't even notice if I left. They would all be pissed when they realized that I left early, but who cared? I got up, heading for the door.

I exited the bar, leaving a wad of money next to my full glass of whiskey on the bar for the bartender. I shoved my hand in my pocket, grabbing my keys. I went out to the parking lot, slowly walking to my car. I would have just got in my car and driven off, but I heard a voice. It was Alex. She was shouting, but not at me. I looked over to see what was going on.

I turned to see where Alex was located. It was dark out and it was pretty hard to see anything, but after my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw her standing in a shadowed corner of the parking lot. There was some guy standing in front of her, no doubt some creep trying to pick up a hot chick for the night. But it sounded like Alex wasn't having it.

"Just leave me alone," I heard her say. "It's over."

"Al, I'm sorry, babe. I don't know what came over me the other night—"

"I don't care!" she shouted. "Just go!" Well, my guess was wrong. This guy wasn't just hitting on her and hoping to get lucky. Alex knew him from before, and from the sounds of it they weren't on very good terms. Maybe he was her ex-boyfriend or something. She did live out here in East LA, so the chances of her running into someone she knew were likely.

"Just give me another chance," he was pleading, walking closer to Alex. I didn't like the way the whole situation looked. Alex kept backing up, but the guy had her cornered. Alex made it clear that she didn't want to talk to him. I wanted to just go because I knew Alex could handle herself but I couldn't bring myself to leave her. What kind of man walks always when he sees a woman being mistreated? So instead of just leaving, I decided to make myself heard.

"I think she just told you to leave her alone," I said, walking up to the guy. He was a tall guy with dark curly hair. He turned to me, giving me a confused look. I met eyes with Alex who looked shocked—no,_ embarrassed_. I knew Alex would hate me for getting involved. She would probably freak out and tell me she could have taken care of everything by herself, but I felt better knowing that this guy wasn't going to do anything to her.

"Who the fuck is this?" the guy said, turning to Alex. "You've got a new man, already? You little whore—" I felt a spark of rage after hearing him speak to a woman like she was trash. I watched intently as he took another step closer to her, making me feel uneasy. I didn't know who this guy was or what he was going to do, but I knew I wasn't going to let him do anything stupid.

"You shouldn't talk to a woman like that," I said, grabbing him by the shoulder firmly, pulling him away from Alex. "Just get lost, tough guy," I suggested. The guy laughed, looking me up and down.

"Are you going to make me, pretty boy?" he said, stepping closer to me. _Shit. _I didn't want this guy to mess with Alex, but I didn't want him to mess with me, either. But I couldn't back down to him now. It was too late for that.

"There are about ten guys in that bar that would love to kick your ass," I said, referring to the Jackass cast. "And I am one of them. Don't fuck with that girl again, do you hear me?"

"You really wanna go there, buddy?" the guy said, taking another step closer to me. I really didn't want to fight this guy. I hadn't been in a physical fight in a while, but I wasn't going to let this guy walk all over me. Being the bigger man and walking away was out of the question. Luckily, Alex stepped in, not letting the situation escalate any farther.

"Van!" she shouted. "Go! Now!" He looked at me and then at her. He gave her one of the coldest stares I had ever seen in my life.

"This isn't over," he hissed before leaving. I took a deep breath. I haven't had an asthma attack in years, but I felt like I was going to have one in the middle of the parking lot.

Alex sighed, closing her eyes and giving a sigh of relief. I didn't know what I should do. Just leaving sounded like a convenient thing to do, but it also seemed like a pretty rude thing to do. But wouldn't it be even ruder to stay and question her about some guy I didn't even know? I mean, it was none of my business. Alex and I didn't even like each other, why would she want to tell me anything that was going on with her life? After a moment of silence, I decided to ask her a single question.

"Are you okay?" I said quietly. She looked up at me with blank eyes like she was surprised I said anything at all. For the first time, she looked completely vulnerable. She looked defeated. She shook her head, scrambling to find suitable words.

"Oh, um, yeah. I'm fine," she murmured. Another moment of silence passed. I was getting the feeling that she wanted to be left alone and I was about to go when she spoke up for a second time. "Why did you do that?" she said.

"Do what?" I said. I really didn't do anything. I tried to intervene when Alex was arguing with that guy, but I really didn't help her out at all.

"Come over here. I mean, you didn't have to," she said, staring at the ground. "I could have handled it. And even if I couldn't have, you didn't have any reason to defend me. I have been nothing but…a bitch to you." I just shook my head. If she had admitted to acting like a bitch to me an hour earlier, I would have been gloating and smiling from ear to ear. But right now, her statement made me feel like shit.

"I think I was less than friendly to you, too," I said. "But whatever. It's over." I wanted to leave. I bet Alex wanted me to leave, too. But I didn't. I stayed. And I prodded a little bit more. "Did you know that guy, Alex?" I asked. She sighed.

"God. It's a long story."

"I have time," I prodded. I shouldn't have said that, but it was like I couldn't control myself. "Come on. I was just leaving anyways. You can come to my place and we can talk. About whatever. Forget about old grudges." I don't even know where that came from. Maybe I just wanted to have someone to talk to. Maybe I wanted to listen to somebody else's problems for a while. Most likely, though, I just wanted to end my silly feud with Alex.

"Do you always ditch your friends when you go out to a bar, Knoxville?" Al said. I laughed.

"I'm not in a bar hopping mood," I replied. She smiled at me. "So you coming or not?" I added, walking over to me car. She followed. I grinned, but I don't think she saw me. Tonight was a night full of firsts. This was the first night I stood up to Naomi. This was the first night where I honestly didn't feel like drinking with the guys. This was the first time I ever asked a girl to come back to my place with completely nonsexual intentions. And this was the first time I was actually going to get to know Alexandra Kidd.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"So?" I said, sitting down next to Alex on a couch in my apartment. "Tell me anything. I'm all ears." She laughed, sitting with her legs crisscrossed. She thought for a moment, trying to decide where to start. Instead, she passed the buck to me.

"You go first," she said. "Tell me about you, then I'll tell you about me. What do you like? What are your goals? But most importantly, what's your real name?" I laughed. That last question was a pretty good one.

"Phillip John Clapp," I answered. "PJ Clapp." She smiled. People never asked me that question. I was always Johnny Knoxville. But I wasn't really Johnny Knoxville when it came down to it. Johnny Knoxville was just a stage name—a character. Just telling Alex my real name made me feel like she knew me a lot better than many people I came into contact with.

"Okay, _PJ_," she said, smiling. "Tell me about your life. Everything. Don't leave out one detail. I want to know what you had for dinner everyday up until today." I smiled at her.

"I have a shitty memory. Probably from getting hit by one too many bulls," I said. "But I'll tell you the basics. I was born in Tennessee—Knoxville, obviously. I lived with my mom and my dad. I was an only child. I played a lot of sports in high school, like football and baseball. I always wanted to be an actor, so when I got out of high school I came to LA. Wrote for a skating magazine, one thing led to another, and I ended up on Jackass." Alex nodded but she didn't seem satisfied. I thought I had done a pretty good job at summing up my life, so I was surprised by her reaction. "What?" I asked. She shrugged, fidgeting slightly.

"Nothing," she said. "That was just really…generic. I mean, no one's life is actually that…boring." I narrowed my eyebrows. Only Alex would listen to your life story and then tell you it was boring. "Oh come on," she said. "I want to get to know you—_the real you._ What makes you tick? What scares you? What do you hate? What do you love?" I was a little shocked at how blunt this girl was. She went from hating my guts to wanting to know everything about me within a couple of days—no, a couple of hours. But I couldn't exactly blame her—I wanted to know about her life, too. Still, I wasn't sure what I should say to her.

"Do you always give your new coworkers the third degree?" I said, coming off almost defensive. Alex didn't get mad though. She just shrugged.

"Fair enough," she said. "But I guess I'll make good on our deal and I'll tell you about me." She looked down at her hands. "Where do you want me to start?" I thought for a moment. I didn't want to overwhelm her by telling her I wanted to know everything, so I decided to keep it simple. I really wanted to know about that guy she was fighting with at the bar tonight, so I asked her to tell me about him. She looked less than happy about my question. She must have really hated this guy. But after a few moments passed, she started to tell me about her relationship with him.

"His name is Van Maverick," she said. "We used to date. Until recently, actually, we were living together. But I dumped him." She paused, staring at her fingers. But then she looked at me and snickered. "He cheated on me. I caught him in bed with another girl. What kind of idiot brings his whore back to the apartment he shares with his girlfriend?" She laughed cynically.

"How long did you date him?" I asked, feeling a little sad for her. I always heard about how Bam and Steve cheated on their girls, but I never heard about how the girl felt about it. It must be a horrible feeling. I couldn't believe that Alex could talk about it now and laugh.

"Two years," she replied. What a waste. You spend all that time in a relationship and it all ends so quickly because some guy can't keep his dick in his pants. No girl deserved to be cheated on. It just wasn't fair.

"That's terrible, Al," I said, rubbing my head. "That guy is a real asshole for treating a woman like that. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You weren't the girl he was sleeping with. No need to feel sorry," she said, smiling. I laughed. "Besides, things weren't working out with him anyways. I was going to have to end it sooner or later. But I guess when I caught him screwing another girl, I was forced to do it sooner." She snickered. "But he is a piece of shit, anyways. Who cares about him?" I wondered if she still did, but I wasn't going to ask. "Now it is my turn. I get to ask you a question," she added.

"Okay," I said, leaning back on the couch. "Shoot."

"Tell me about her," Alex said, pointing to a picture of Naomi that was sitting on an end table. "I'm sick of talking about my bad relationship, so tell me about a good one. She is your fiancée right?" I sighed. My relationship with Naomi wasn't as good as Alex assumed it was. I thought it was weird how Alex chose to ask me about Naomi. I guess it was to be polite. When people know you are getting married, they always are asking you about the wedding and what the proposal was like. And I had just asked Alex about her relationships, so it was only fair for her to ask me about mine.

"Yeah," I answered. "We're getting married in a couple of months."

"She's gorgeous," Alex said, still staring at the picture.

"She is," I replied. She looked like a model. She could have been one easily. She could have been a movie star. She could have done a lot of things with her life. But she didn't do anything. She was the definition of a trust fund baby. She lived in an apartment that her dad paid for and drove a car that was a birthday present from her mom. I guess when you are pretty, young, and rich there is no point in starting a career.

"How did you know she was the one?" Alex asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking about it.

"I guessed," I said. Alex laughed, but I didn't. "I'm not sure she is the one. I feel like she is. I mean, I love her and I think she loves me. We've been together a long time and I don't have many complaints. So I proposed." Alex nodded. "I still wonder if proposing to her was the right thing to do. We fight so much. Sometimes the thought of working out all out problems seems like a lost cause."

"Wow. That's not what I was expecting. At all." Alex said. "You know, I thought you were going to give me some fairytale story about how you saw her from across a room and you instantly knew she was going to be your wife one day. I think I would have puked if you told me some bullshit story like that." I laughed. Naomi and I were far from a fairytale. "I guess I had you pegged wrong, Knoxville."

"What did you think I was like?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I don't know," she started. "I thought you were this dick who thought he had the world in his hand. I mean, you had that awesome job, the beautiful fiancée, a group of friends who have been sticking up for you whenever I said something negative about you…maybe I was just jealous of you." I laughed. That was ridiculous.

"You? Jealous of me?" I said. She nodded, looking at me with her blue eyes, a slight smile on her lips. "Well maybe I was a little jealous of you, too." She shook her head.

"What reason would you have to be jealous of me, cowboy?" she asked.

"You're new. You're interesting. You're cool. What isn't there to be jealous of?" I said. She rolled her eyes.

"A lot of things," she said in a quiet voice.

"Tell me about them," I said. I shouldn't have said that. I barely knew Alex, why should she tell me anything? But I wanted to get to know her so badly. I wanted her to know things about her. I wanted her to feel comfortable enough to open up to me. She closed her eyes for a moment.

"I told you, it's a long story" she said, looking away from me.

"And I told you, I've got all the time in the world." She looked back at me, a serious look on her face. Something told me that whatever she was about to say was really precious to her. Like she was about to tell me a secret that no one knew. I didn't want to push her to say something she wasn't comfortable telling me, but if she really wanted to open up, I would listen. I wasn't going to judge her like I might have in the past. It was her turn to talk.

"I lived with my mom and my brother, Solomon, in New York. Queens, to be exact," she started coolly. "And it was…bad. We lived in this shitty apartment building. I mean, that place needed to be condemned. When it rained, water would leak in. When it was hot, the air conditioner would break. And when it was snowing, there would be no water because all the pipes in the building would freeze up. And then there was school…" she said, laughing. "It was just…bad. All of it was bad. No other way to put it." I was surprised to be hearing this from her. I mean, Alex just seemed like any other tough skater chick. I would have never guessed she grew up in a place like that. But I guess she had to have gotten her thick skin from somewhere. I listened as she continued to speak.

"My brother worked to help pay rent. My mom wasn't really good with her priorities," she said. "But my brother was walking home from work one night and he got mugged. The guy hit him over the head with something, killed him. I'm not sure why. They never caught the guy, so I guess I'll never know." I repressed a gasp. I couldn't believe all this shit actually happened to her. Stuff like that happened in the movies, not in real life. I couldn't imagine Alex experiencing so much pain in her twenty-two years of life. It wasn't fair for someone to have been dealt such a bad hand in life. "I stuck around in Queens for a couple of years, but I bailed when I turned eighteen. I left with a friend and we came to LA. Been here ever since."

"I had no idea," I spoke after a few minutes of silence passed. "I—I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," she replied calmly. "I don't tell a lot of people about my life. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I don't want pity or sympathy. I just want to be seen as any other person. Not a girl who acts like she's a guy or a girl who had a fucked up life. I just want to be myself. But other people don't understand me as good as I do. I'm not even making any sense."

"Yes you are," I said. "And you are a lot stronger than I thought you were. You have been through some really tough shit, Alex. It is sad and it is unfair, but it is amazing that you made it through all of that." She looked at me. She stared right into my eyes but I didn't feel uncomfortable. "Thank you for telling me that."

"I owed you some kind of excuse for why I am the way I am," she said, lying back on the couch. "Life has just made me…hard." She closed her eyes, stretching her arms out. There was something natural about her, laying there. From her wild, curly dirty blonde hair to the light freckles on her nose, something about her intrigued me. She wasn't like the other chicks you see walking around LA with their bleached hair and tanned skin. Something about her was different. It wasn't just the fact that she looked different, but she acted different. At first I didn't want any part of her. Her headstrong personality intimidated me, but now it interested me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something about her that I really liked.

Alex and I chatted for hours. It didn't feel like that much time had passed, but apparently it had. I talked to her about my parents and I told her stories from when I was in high school. I told her about things that hadn't passed my mind in years. When you working for MTV, reminiscing about the past isn't something that you have time to do. It is just work, work, work, all day long. But I guess when Alex told me about her brother, it just reminded me how precious life was and how quickly everything could change. So we spent the night just talking about talking about good times. Talking to her was easy. I felt like I was talking to a friend that I had known for years. I was telling Alex about some of the crazy pranks my dad pulled on me when a knock at my door stopped me mid-sentence.

"You usually get guests at two in the morning?" Alex asked, stretching lazily. I was shocked that it was already two. I assumed one of the guys was angry that I bailed so they were coming over here to drunkenly yell at me. But when I got to the door and looked through the peephole to see who it was, I saw a very angry Naomi on the other side.

_"Fuck!" _I shouted quietly.

"What?" Alex said, sitting up. I grimaced, suddenly in a stalemate.

"It's Naomi," I whispered. Alex gave me a confused look. "She is going to flip shit if she finds out there is another girl over here at two in the morning," I explained. Alex sighed. "You know how girls are. You're one of them," I said. "It doesn't matter if we are just friends, if you are here and you have a vagina, Naomi is going to think we are sleeping together."

"I'll go out the window," she said, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

"We are on the fucking twelfth floor!" I said. She sighed.

"Well then tell your fiancée that she needs to get over whatever insecurities are causing her to believe her future husband is cheating on her," Alex said plainly.

"But she'll get mad if I say that," I whined.

"For a guy who almost kills himself on a daily basis, you are a pussy," she said. There was the Alex we all knew and kind of hated, but still kind of loved. Naomi was banging harder on the door and shouting that she knew I was in here and I didn't know what to do. Alex offered little help.

"If you don't open that damn door, I will," she threatened. "You know what? You are probably overreacting. I'm sure Naomi is pretty levelheaded. If she agreed to marry you, she has got trust you a little bit." Wow. Alex knew even less about woman than I did, and she was one of them. Well, she was going to learn a thing or two about Naomi as soon as I opened that door.

"Okay, I'm going to go answer it," I said. "But looks less comfortable. We don't want her getting the wrong idea—" Alex gave me an annoyed stare so I decided to just shut up and answer the door. I took a deep breath before unlocking the door and letting Naomi in.

"Hey, babe," I said, but she just pushed right past me. She had bags under her eyes and a pissed look on her face. Naomi wasn't a stay-up-until-two-in-the-morning kind of girl. She needed her beauty sleep or whatever. And when something caused her to lose an hour or two of sleep, she got angry.

"Who is in here?" she said, storming into the living room. "I heard another voice!" I tried to act really calm about the whole ordeal in hopes of making Naomi feel like she was making a big deal out of nothing, but it didn't work.

"It's just Alex from the show," I said, following Naomi into the living room. Alex sat on the couch, giving Naomi a small grin and a wave. Naomi didn't return the smile.

"Am I missing something?" Naomi said, turning to me, as if Alex wasn't in the room. "Isn't that the girl that threw the drink at you at the meeting the other day?" Alex and I laughed.

"We decided to…you know, bury the hatchet," I said, putting my arm around Naomi's shoulders.

"Why at two in the morning?" she said, looking me dead in the eye. I knew that the minute Alex left, Naomi was going to flip out on me. She wouldn't do in front of company, though.

"It's my fault," Alex said, standing up. "I came over here about a couple of hours ago. He was getting ready to kick my ass out, right Knox?" I couldn't believe she was lying to cover up for me. I wasn't sure if I should just be thankful and agree with her or fess up to Naomi that I actually spent my night at the bar with the guys.

"Right," I said, shooting Alex a thankful look. She just nodded, giving me a slight smile. Of course, Naomi was ready to rip Alex's face off. There was something about Al coming over to my place in the middle of the night that was rubbing her the wrong way, and she was going to make her concerns apparent.

"Well, Alice—" Naomi started ignorantly.

"Alex," she corrected. "My name is Alex."

"Okay, _Alex_," Naomi said, a little more irritated, "Johnny is _my fiancé _and I would appreciate it if you _didn't _make late night trips to his apartment. Do you understand me?" _Oh God. _Naomi did not just say that. I was getting ready for Alex to start yelling or screaming or even throwing punches, but luckily she didn't. She just laughed, raising both her eyebrows.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Alex said sarcastically, walking to the door. "I'll see you later, Johnny," she added, ignoring Naomi. "Good luck solving all your relationship problems. You're going to need it."

"Excuse me?" Naomi said, but Alex didn't reply.

"Alex," I said, walking over to her before she left. Naomi just groaned, walking into another room. "I drove you here. Let me give you a ride home."

"No way," she said. "I think your fiancée will flip out if you have to leave to bring me home. She seems a little insecure. I'm good—"

"At least let me call you a cab," I insisted.

"No," she demanded. "I'm fine. Now go screw your fiancée, because she sounds like she needs to get laid." I rolled my eyes and she laughed. "See ya, Knoxville," she added before leaving.

"Bye, Alex" I replied. And then she was gone. I didn't want her to leave. I wanted to talk to her more. I had more to say and I know she had more to tell me. But still, she left, closing the door behind her. And just as she left, my fiancée reappeared.

Naomi didn't waste a moment to come out and yell at me. "Johnny!" she shouted, anger in her voice, "You were talking to her about our relationship? That is none of her business!" I shook my head.

"Well, when you yell at me in front of every guy I work with, it makes our relationship problems everyone's business," I said sternly. Naomi just shook her head.

"Why was she over here at two in the morning?" Naomi said. "She wanted to talk? Did she really have to tell you something that was so important it couldn't wait until tomorrow morning? That's crap, Johnny. I have never had to talk to a friend so bad that I had to go and disturb them in the middle of the night! Especially an engaged male friend!"

"Well, why are you over here?" I said. Naomi looked offended.

"Because I am your fiancée and I was worried about you! You just stormed out of my apartment and you didn't even tell me where you were going! You could have driven off a bridge for all I knew. I called you a million times but…" she looked at my phone, which I had ripped out of the wall a few days ago, "your phone was disconnected. What the hell Johnny? Do you not want to talk to me?"

"Naomi," I said in a mellow tone. "It isn't like that…" I just wanted this to be over. I didn't want to fight with her anymore, at least not tonight. It was late and I was tired. I just put my arms around her, hugging her tightly. "I'm just really stressed right now."

"I just want this wedding to be _over_," she said as she rested her head on my chest. "After we are married, all this stupid drama is just going to go away…" I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment. I had a feeling she wasn't right about that one.


	5. Drink Away the Pain (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Five: Drink Away the Pain (Alex)_

I woke up early on Friday morning to make sure I got to the MTV office building on time. Jeff wanted us all to be there by seven, but Steve had informed me that most the guys were usually always late for anything that scheduled in the morning. As tempting as it was to sleep in for another hour or two, I didn't want to be late on my first day filming, so I made sure I got my ass out of bed on time.

So I got to the office on time, yawning and dragging my feet the whole way there. But when I walked up to the hallway where all the Jackass offices were located, I was greeted by a bunch of guys with a lot more energy than I had. All the Jackass guys were there. They were chuckling, sitting around and whispering about something. I felt like I was about to fall asleep right then and there, so I was a little surprised by how lively all of them were. "What's up?" I said with a yawn as I entered one of the offices. Ryan jumped up, excited—for some reason—to see me.

"Alex!" he said in a hushed tone. "I am so glad you are here. You are about to start filming. Right now." I raised an eyebrow at him. Jeff told me that we would all meet at the offices and then take someone's van out to some vacant lot where we would be filming a few bits. No one told me we were doing anything at the offices. At seven in the morning. I sighed.

"Okay," I spoke wearily, wondering if I was stepping into some kind of trap. But then again, I was too tired to weasel my way out of any pranks. "How bad is this gonna hurt?" I added, rubbing my eyes. Ryan shook his head and laughed, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

"You're lucky," Chris said, sitting on a couch in the office. "This one isn't going to hurt you at all." He was whispering, too. I was really starting to wonder what the hell was going on. It was too early in the morning for people to be beating around the bush with me.

"So what do I have to do?" I said.

"We are settling your fight with Knoxville right here, right now," Steve said. I smiled. None of them knew that Johnny and I had settled out differences a couple of nights ago, but I didn't say anything. If they wanted me to prank Knox, I was just going to go with it.

"Johnny got here about fifteen minutes ago," Ryan whispered. "The first thing he does is go into Jeff's office and crashes on the couch. And that guy can sleep. Nothing wakes him up, believe me. So you are going to go wake him up for work." I smiled as Chris handed me a paintball gun. "We call it Paintball Alarm Clock," Ryan said, elbowing me playfully.

"We were going to do it without you," Chris added, "but we decided that this would be a good way for you to get out some aggression. Hopefully this will help you settle your differences with the guy." I smiled and nodded. They had no idea, but I wasn't going to ruin their fun. Just as Chris spoke, Jeff walked in, holding a camera in his hands.

"You film, too?" I said to Jeff. He laughed.

"Nah, but our cameraman, Rick Kosick, is meeting us on set. I'm going to be the camera crew for this one," Jeff said. I could tell he was just as tired as I was from the way he was trudging around the office. I was glad that I wasn't the only one who was feeling exhausted during the first day filming. "So, you ready for your first Jackass bit?" Jeff added, messing with some of the settings on his camera. I nodded my head.

"Where's Knoxville?" I asked, getting a feel for the huge paintball gun that I was holding. Jeff led me to his office, the other guys walking behind me. Surely enough, there was Johnny, lying face down on a couch. He must have had one hell of a night if he couldn't even come to work without falling asleep. I chuckled as Jeff gave me a cue. The red light on his camera flickered on. Time to be a Jackass.

"I'm Alex Kidd," I whispered, looking into the camera, smiling as the other guys chuckled, watching the prank unfold, "and this is Paintball Alarm Clock." I raised the paintball gun, and for a minute I felt bad for Johnny. I knew how bad getting paintballed hurt. And I was only standing a couple of feet away from him. In this close of a range, Johnny was going to be hurting for a while. But I shook off any guilt I felt and put my finger on the trigger. This was going to be hilarious.

I shot the gun and a bright green paintball splattered on Johnny's back. He immediately woke up, falling onto the floor in a confused daze. He shouted in pain as the rest of us laughed hysterically. "Fucking _fuck!_" Johnny yelled, trying to reach the spot where I shot him with his hands. "What the hell just happened?!" he said, staring up at me with a puzzled look on his face. I tried to stop laughing at his expense, but I couldn't help myself—this was too fucking funny. And after a moment or two, Johnny was laughing too. That's how funny it was.

"Jackass rule number one: don't sleep while you're around the Jackass cast," Chris said into the camera, causing the guys to erupt into another wave of laughter. I smiled, placing down the paintball gun and offering Johnny my hand as he laid on the floor, still smiling.

"Truce?" I said as he grabbed my hand. He winked at me, which was his way of telling me that he understood what was going on. He knew that the guys probably told me to do this because they wanted me to end my fight with him, even though we were already past that. He didn't want to ruin the fun either, so he didn't say anything about it.

"Truce," he replied. I grabbed his hand and smiled, helping Johnny up, but I didn't realize that Jeff was still filming and Steve had grabbed the paintball gun I had put down. But I knew something was up when I saw a mischievous glint in Johnny's eye. Before I could put two and two together, Johnny grabbed me, putting my hands behind my back. I squirmed, trying to get away, but I couldn't.

"Shoot her!" Johnny shouted, and after a couple of seconds, Steve did so. He shot a couple of paintballs at my stomach, which hurt like hell. I shouted, feeling a stinging sensation on my skin where the paintballs had hit, leaving splashes of green paint on my shirt. But for some reason, I couldn't stop laughing.

"Motherfucker!" I shouted after Johnny had let me go, "that hurt like a bitch!" I was still grinning, though, as I rubbed my skin where I had just been shot.

"Jackass rule number two," Chris interrupted, "Do unto others as you would have them do." He was so weird…

"Don't dish it if you can't take it, _Al!_" Johnny said, punching my in the arm. I sighed and lifted up my shirt, showing the three red, puffy rings that were left by the paintballs. They weren't too bad—nothing that would scar or anything. Jeff zoomed in on my wounds with his camera.

"Now we're even. Honestly," Johnny said, putting his arm around my shoulders. I smiled and nodded, but I still took the opportunity to slap Johnny's back right where I had shot him. He groaned in pain, contorting to my touch.

"I think I'm going to love this job," I said as Jeff put the camera down. Everyone was laughing, but just as Jeff turned off his camera, a very distressed Bam Margera came in. My laughter slowed as I saw the seriousness in Bam's eyes. Something was definitely wrong.

"You're late," Jeff said when Bam walked in.

"Yeah I know, sorry," Bam replied quickly, shaking his head, his messy dark hair falling in his eyes. "But I was in the parking lot and I saw them towing Knoxville's car." Johnny sighed.

"Damn it!" Knox said, heading out of the office. "I'll be back in a minute…"

Once he was gone, Bam suddenly came to life. He pulled out a rolled up magazine, showing it to all of us. "I was getting coffee this morning and I saw them selling this at a newsstand. Read the headline," he said, speaking quickly. I wasn't sure was going on, but I was hoping that it didn't have anything to do with me. I gritted my teeth as Bam handed the magazine to Dunn, whose eyes got wide when he saw the magazine. I couldn't imagine what Dunn was about to read.

"Johnny Knoxville's Engagement Hell," he said, reading the headline. He flipped through the magazine and continued to read the rest of the article out loud. "When Johnny Knoxville announced his engagement to Naomi Simmons five months ago, the couple seemed to be living a life full of bliss and joy. But insiders are saying that the couple is slowly growing father apart. 'Johnny doesn't talk to her for days and he doesn't see her for weeks at a time. Naomi is fed up with it,' says a source." I couldn't believe that magazines were printing stories about a topic that was so sensitive to Johnny. They were making money off something that was deeply troubling him. As glad as I was that nothing about me was printed in the magazine, I still felt terrible for Johnny.

"That is such a lie," Jeff said, shaking his head. "He is always thinking about her. He is always over at her place and he is always calling her. Where do gossip magazines get these blatant lies from?"

"Just wait," Bam said grimly. "It gets better." Dunn continued to read the article aloud.

"The Jackass star could easily be blamed for the tear in his relationship with his fiancée. He lives a very wild—and very public—life full of partying and binge drinking. But Naomi has been photographed on multiple different occasions partying with other guys. She always seems to be missing her gorgeous five carat engagement ring in these photos."

"Holy shit," said Steve, pointing to a picture of Naomi grinding on some guy in a night club. And just like the article had said, there was no ring on her finger.

"The caption says that photo was taken when she was in Huntington Beach last week," Ryan said, reading the small print that was under the photo.

"She said she was picking out her wedding dress and seeing her parents when she went to Huntington," Jeff said, shaking his head. "What a whore…"

"That's not it," Bam said, his eyes wide. "So I told you I was getting coffee this morning, right? It was probably about eight o' clock in the morning. I walked past a car and I saw Naomi and some guy sitting in there. I wasn't going to say hi to her, so I just kept walking. But when I looked back at the car, Naomi wasn't there anymore. But the guy was. And he looked really happy…" The whole cast groaned, understanding where Bam was heading.

"No fucking way!" Steve said in his raspy voice. "No way was she blowing some guy in his car."

"I swear on my fucking life!" Bam said. "It was her. I know it was."

"You don't know she was sucking his dick," I offered. "Maybe she just…dropped her wallet on the floor of the car?" I didn't even believe that and I was the one suggesting it.

"That girl is a slut," Bam said. "I know a slut when I see one. I told Johnny that chick was bad news. She is a girl that you hit and quit. You don't screw a chick like that and then propose to her!" Just as Bam finished speaking, Johnny walked in, a flustered look on his face.

"My car wasn't being towed, asshole," he said. "If that was supposed to be a prank, it wasn't a very good one…" Everyone just stared at Johnny blankly. I guess we weren't very good at acting natural. "What's going on you guys?" Johnny said. Ryan swiftly hid the magazine behind his back where Johnny couldn't see it. I bit my bottom lip. If Johnny read that article he would be shattered.

"Nothing," Bam said, just a little too quickly. Johnny wasn't buying it. Ryan shoved the magazine into Steve-O's hands, trying to make sure it was hidden without Johnny knowing anything about it, but Johnny saw the quick action.

"What is that?" Johnny said, walking over to Steve, who was now hiding the magazine behind his back. This wasn't good.

"What's _what?_" Steve said, sliding the magazine to me.

"Cut the shit you guys," Johnny said, switching his attention from Steve to me. "What is that?" I didn't know what to do with the magazine. Everyone was just staring at me with wide eyes. I had nowhere to stash the magazine. Johnny walked up to me, cornering me. "What is it, Al? Show it to me."

"You _really _don't want to see this Johnny," I said in a serious tone. "Just pretend you didn't see any of this." Johnny looked into my eyes for a moment, seeing if I was being honest. He knew I was. He knew that he probably _didn't _want to see what I was holding. But he grabbed it out of my hands anyway. I shook my head. Well, he was going to find out sooner or later. And the sooner he found out about Naomi's cheating, the better.

Everyone watched as Johnny stared at the cover of the magazine. He flipped the pages, his eyes moving quickly as he read the article. He seemed to freeze when he saw the pictures. It was easy to dismiss an article as being a lie, but when you were looking at a photo, there was no denying it. Naomi was really cheating on him.

"Come on, you guys. Are you serious?" Johnny said, carelessly flinging the magazine. He tried to look like he wasn't fuming inside, but anyone could tell that he was. "That's just bullshit," he said. I wasn't sure if he was trying to convince us that Naomi wasn't cheating him or if he was trying to convince himself. "Who even reads those tabloids, anyways…?" he said, trailing off. No one said anything. "I've got to go, uh, make a call," Johnny added, before exiting the office once again.

No one spoke up. There was nothing to say. We couldn't help Johnny. There was no fixing what Naomi did and there was no pretending it didn't happen. We would just have to watch as he toughed it out—or in this case, listen opposed to watch.

We could all hear as he called Naomi. Anyone in the whole building would have been able to hear it. He was shouting at her so loud that people in the parking lot outside could probably hear him. "Hey, Naomi," he said in a terse voice. "Oh, you want to know what's wrong? How about the fact that you have been cheating on me?! That is bothering me a little bit!" There was a pause. This all seemed so familiar. Just like when I called out Van for cheating on me. Naomi was probably denying the fact that she cheated on Johnny.

"Don't try to bullshit me, Naomi!" Johnny yelled. "I saw fucking pictures! Who was the guy you were dancing with in Huntington? You didn't mention that you were going to nightclubs during your trip to your home town! I thought you wanted to see your parents. You probably just wanted to fucksome guys in a town where I couldn't catch you!"

This was the part where the cheater realizes that they are caught and that there is no way getting away with it. So they start begging for forgiveness. _It only happened once, _or maybe, _I was drunk and I didn't know what I was doing, _or my personal favorite, _they didn't mean anything to me! Just give me another chance! You mean everything to me! _It was all bullshit. Once a cheater, always a cheater.

"Just shut your fucking mouth Naomi!" Johnny screamed into the phone. "Or have you been sucking so many dicks lately that you forgot how to close your mouth?"

"That a boy, Johnny!" said Steve, laughing. Even I couldn't help at chuckle at that line.

"Oh, I'm offending you?" Johnny said in a mocking tone. "Well you don't have to worry about me offending you anymore. We are _done!" _We all heard as Johnny slammed the phone down. We exchanged looks, wondering if the storm was over. But after a few moments passed, Johnny just started swearing and shouting, kicking shit around in the hallway. I grimaced, wishing that Johnny could have been dealing with this in the privacy of his own home or something. Finding out that you wasted the past couple of years of your life with a cheating bitch was something that you didn't want to discover while you were at work.

"Should I go talk to him?" Jeff said, rubbing his head.

"No way," Chris said. "I don't think he's ready to—" Chris was interrupted by the sound of glass smashing, "—_talk._" After a few more minutes passed, Johnny appeared in the office again.

"Hey," he said, breathing heavily, "I, uh, have to go to the…um…I've got to go. I'll try to be on set tomorrow…" And just like that, he left.

"Great," Jeff said. "You know, Naomi always had to be the center of attention. Maybe this is just another way for her to be the center of Johnny's universe. Because he isn't going to get over this quickly." I nodded, but for some reason, I felt like I could talk to him. I thought that maybe I could relate to Johnny. I had recently gone through a similar event. Maybe he would listen to me. Or maybe he would feel comfortable talking to me.

"I'm going to go talk to him," I said, standing up.

"Don't Alex," Jeff said. "Chris is right. Johnny doesn't want to talk to anyone." I ignored him and followed Johnny out of the building. I know it didn't make much sense for me to go talk to Johnny after such a tragic event—I mean, we were new friends—but I felt like I should. I felt like he wanted me to. So I followed him as he walked out to his car. I ran up to him, making sure he didn't drive away. He wasn't going anywhere, though. He was just sitting in the driver's seat of his car, his head on the steering wheel. How sad.

"Johnny?" I said, knocking on the window. He looked up at me, a somber look on his face. I knew how he was feeling. When you are done being angry and all you have left is sadness. When you realize the person you were building your life around is gone forever. When you finally realize that you could never have that person back no matter how much you loved them, because you would never be able to trust them again. Johnny unlocked the doors of the car. I walked around, sitting in the passenger's seat.

I didn't say anything for a long time. Johnny didn't say anything either. I wasn't planning on trying to start a conversation with him, but if he wanted to talk, I wanted him to know he could talk to me. Talking to me would be different than talking to Jeff or Steve or Bam. I know I wouldn't want to talk to a group full of guys about my feelings and how bad I was hurting. Even though Johnny had only known me for a short period of time, I knew he would feel comfortable talking to me.

After some time passed, Johnny finally spoke up. "Hey, Alex," he started, turning to look at me. "What did you do after Van cheated on you? After it set in…"

"I screamed," I said. "A lot." Johnny nodded his head, but I knew that was the answer he wanted. So I kept speaking. "I wasn't angry because Van cheated on me. I knew we weren't right for each other. I knew we were going to break up eventually, but—"

"Losing that sense of security is the scary part. That is the sad part," Johnny said, finishing me sentence.

"Exactly," I murmured. "They say how everyone has a soul mate and all that shit. I was convinced that Van was going to be my life partner and no matter how bad things got between us, we were going to be together. I felt like I couldn't leave him, even if I wanted to. My life revolved around him. But after he cheated on me, everything changed."

"When did it get better?" he asked.

"Honestly?" I said. "It still hurts." I put my hand on the cut on my cheek, feeling the dull pain of a healing wound. "It is like a throbbing pain that isn't going to go away for a while. But I don't think about it anymore. You just have to move on—"

"You don't get it," Johnny said. "Van was just your boyfriend. Naomi was going to be my wife. She was going to have my kids. She was my future. But now—"

"You feel like you don't have a future," I said. "Believe me, I know. Van hurt me in a way that was so—" I stopped before I said something I would regret. "Being cheated on feels like shit. It makes you feel like you're not good enough. But if someone is so cold and heartless and pathetic that they feel like they need to go sleep around to be loved, then they are the ones who aren't up to par."

"I can't imagine my life without her," Johnny said. "I thought about her for most of the day. I told her everything. And even when I felt like I hated her, I still knew that we would get through everything."

"Well you were wrong," I said, maybe a little too harshly. "We all make mistakes." Johnny didn't say anything. "I don't know how you feel about Naomi. But I do know that there thousands of other girls in the world. Don't get hung up on this one just because you bought her a nice ring and she said she loved you. Actions speak louder than words."

"And her actions were pretty clear." I nodded my head. He was right about that one. "But I still don't get it. I don't know what I wasn't giving her. I did everything she wanted me to. I always tried to be there for her. Sure I had work, but I still tried to be everything she wanted me to be."

"Sometimes, everything is enough," I said. "I thought that I was doing everything Van wanted me to, but as it turns out, I wasn't. When I caught him cheating on me he said we didn't talk enough and we didn't go out enough. And we didn't screw enough. So he found someone that would do what I wasn't. He made it sound like I was neglecting him or something. But I didn't let him turn it on me. I never felt bad about the problems we were having because no matter how shitty I was at being a girlfriend, he still shouldn't have cheated on me. He was wrong, not me." Johnny nodded. "So don't let Naomi make you feel bad. She cheated on you."

"But maybe there was something I could have done," Johnny said. "Maybe if I came home more or if I called her more—"

"It wouldn't have changed anything," I said. "You could have been the perfect fiancé and she would have still cheated on you." I think people might cheat just for the thrill. I think they do it just to see if they can get away with it. It didn't matter how good of a partner you were, a cheater is going to cheat just for the adrenaline rush they got after doing it. It was sad, but I think it was true. "Well, are you going to come back in," I said to Johnny. "I'm pretty sure Jeff still wants to get some filming done." Johnny shook his head.

"I don't know, Al," he said, frowning. "I just made an asshole out of myself in front of the entire cast. And I trashed a couple of the offices on our floor."

"Don't worry about that," I said. "I think everyone cut you some slack. Everyone has had their heart broken." Johnny nodded, getting out of his car. I guess he would try and get some shooting done today. I was glad. Throwing yourself into work was a good way to deal with any problems you were having. And when your job was having fun, forgetting about your issues would be easy.

"Thanks, Alex," Johnny said as we walked into the office building. "That helped. A lot."

"Oh, uh, you're welcome," I stuttered. Johnny just smiled, opening the door for me as we entered the building. "I'm always…um, happy to help."

Johnny just smiled.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Filming went pretty smoothly for the rest of the week. No one said anything about Johnny's situation with Naomi, and in return he pretended as if nothing happened. I guess throwing himself into work helped him cope with the fact that his ex was a whore. Thinking about her made me angry. It would be one thing if all Naomi did was cheat on Johnny. But no, she had to make him look like an idiot in front of everyone that picked up a gossip magazine. It was frustrating.

So, the next ten days of filming went well. The Jackass schedule was set up like this: we would film for ten days and then we would get a week to recover from any small injuries. And like the guys had warned me, the first ten days were hell. From bull riding to riot gun tests, I had experienced an array of different Jackass stunts. Although it hurt and I was covered in bruises, I still had fun when I was on set. And after the first few days, I got use to the pain. It still didn't feel real; I couldn't believe I was actually filming a show that would be on MTV soon. It was crazy.

"Well, I think we got enough footage for today," said Jeff, signaling Kosick to put down his camera. It was our last day before we got a week off and we had been shooting for hours. We got to this location at about eight o'clock and we didn't do anything but film until nine o'clock at night. Jeff had us riding bicycles over curbs, flying down streets in shopping carts, and of course, he had me doing a lot of skating. Jeff told me these clips were essential to Jackass. He said nothing made someone laugh harder than some asshole flying face first out of a shopping cart.

I was pretty battered and bruised after that day of filming. I scraped up my leg after falling off my skateboard while filming a bit called Human Target Practice. Bam shot me in the knee with a paintball, and needless to say, he had good aim. I bit the curb pretty bad while filming a few shopping cart stunts, which hurt like hell, but it wasn't anything too bad. I just kept telling myself that what I was doing would make thousands—maybe millions of people laugh. That made it a lot easier to do.

"So, how was your first ten days of filming, Al?" Ryan asked while I was cleaning off the scrapes on my leg. We were still at the vacant lot we had been shooting on, and I was using bottles of water to rinse of my wounds. All the guys were sitting around on the grassy field, waiting for Jeff to give us the okay to leave for the day. And knowing the disorganized way Jeff ran his productions that could have taken longer than you might think.

I shrugged in response to Dunn's question. "A lot better than I thought," I said, tossing an empty water bottle to the ground. "I mean, I didn't break anything. So it could be worse."

"Keep thinking positive," Chris said, sitting on the ground. "After a few months of this shit, it starts feeling like any other nine-to-five job." I chuckled, doubting that working on Jackass would ever feel like a normal job.

"What about you, Knox?" said Ryan, pointing his head at Johnny. Johnny was laying in the grass, probably in a lot of pain. He took most of the worst hits today, but of course, he would never admit that he was hurting. "You hit your head pretty hard. You probably have brain damage or something."

"No," Johnny replied. "My nose broke my fall." I chuckled, watching as Johnny blotted his bloody nose with a tissue. He refused to get any medical attention, but he did except a tissue to help soak up the blood that was running down his face. _Oh, Johnny…_

"Pretty boy isn't going to be so pretty anymore!" shouted Bam.

"Marlon Brando fucked up his nose and he was still good looking," Johnny countered.

"But he was good looking to begin with," I said, sticking my tongue out at Johnny.

"Don't be jealous because your male coworker is prettier than you, Al," Johnny teased. I gave him the finger, making him laugh. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Johnny said, smiling brightly. I was just happy that he was happy. I assumed that he would have been in a horrible mood for the past ten days. I thought he was going to be in his own world, busy thinking about Naomi, but he wasn't. He didn't talk about Naomi once in the past few days and he seemed to be in a good mood. I wasn't sure what the status of his relationship with Naomi was. I assumed they were still broken up, but you could never be sure. For all I knew, they could have gotten back together, but I really hoped they didn't.

"Well, I'm ready to get the fuck out of here," Steve said. "Where we going tonight?" I had been going out with the guys a lot lately. After work we would go out to a bar or something, drinking whatever we could get our hands on. Tonight was no different from every other night.

"We haven't been to a club in a while," Bam said. "Maybe we can go to that new nightclub—what's it called?"

"The Twisted Martini," Dave said. "One of my friends went there a couple of nights ago. Said it was crazy. Girls all over the place just waiting to get laid."

"You don't have friends, England," Bam said, laughing wildly. "And I don't think there are any girls in the entire world who are desperate enough to fuck Ehren." Ehren shook his head and Dave rolled his eyes. All the other guys just snickered.

"No one likes a bully, _Brandon_," I said sarcastically to Bam, punching his arm.

"I was just kidding around, _Alexandra_," Bam replied, punching me back. "I am sure England's got friends. And Danger Ehren is the biggest ladies man I have ever met. He's got to beat the women off with a stick. Ain't that right, Ehren?"

"Fuck off," Ehren said. He was used to Bam's harassment by now. He also knew there wasn't much he could do about it.

"You guys fight like teenage girls," Steve said. "It's fucking annoying. Let's just get out of here because I need a drink."

"Is everyone coming?" Ryan asked.

"I can't tonight," Jeff said. "I need to get back to the office and start cutting up the footage from this week. If can get this shit sent out to MTV by tomorrow, you guys might be back on the air before the end of the month, assuming MTV likes it all." The guys cheered at the mentioning of Jackass getting back on TV. "So I am going to have a long night of editing at the office. But if anyone wants to skip the club and come to the office with me, it would be greatly appreciated." I laughed. Who the hell would want to skip a night of drinking to go do more work?

"I'll help you, Jeff," Johnny said. _Of course_. I sighed, exchange looks with the other guys. Johnny had been skipping out on any partying all week. After his blow up with Naomi, I had cut him some slack. He was in a good mood at work and he was trying to get over this whole cheating epidemic, so I guess it was understandable that the guy didn't want to be going out every night. But it had been ten days since all that shit with Naomi happened, and patience wasn't my strong suit. Johnny was going out with us, even if I had to drag him into the club by his ears.

"No way, Knox," I said. "You're coming out with us." He looked at me and grimaced, shaking his head. He had done the same thing every other night when I asked him to come out with us, but this time I wasn't going to let him have his way. "Seriously, Johnny. You are coming. It's not optional."

"You need to have some fun, dude," Steve said. "This is like, your anti-intervention. You are going out and getting shitfaced whether you like it or not. And as your friends, we will make sure to support you every step of the way." Everyone laughed, but Johnny still didn't seem convinced.

"I don't know, guys," Johnny spoke. "I'm kind of busy. I have this thing I have to do."

"You can organize your underwear drawer tomorrow night," Chris snickered. Everyone knew that Johnny didn't have anything to do. Jackass was pretty much all any of us did. "Now quit being a killjoy and have some fun!" Johnny sighed, finally giving in.

"Fine," he breathed. The guys cheered and I gave Knoxville a smile. He smiled back. "But only for a few hours. Then I am leaving." I raised an eyebrow. There was no way he was leaving the club early. If I had anything to do with it, he was going to get so wasted that he passed out on the club floor.

"Well now that we have that settled, let's go!" Steve said, walking to the van. "Come on!" I chuckled, following him to the car. Johnny walked beside me. He looked less than excited.

"Cheer up, Knoxville," I said. "You're going to have fun. I'll make sure of that."

"That sounds like a threat," Johnny said with a smile.

"No, it's more like…a warning," I replied. He chuckled, looking down at his feet as we walked. I just wanted him to get over Naomi. Chris was right when he said that Johnny was going to grow on me, because he really did. I considered Johnny a friend now, and I hated seeing him stressing out about some slut that had treated him like shit. He was better than that. He was better than her. Everyone could see it, but for some reason, he still couldn't.

I pushed out all thoughts of infidelity out of my head as the guys and I piled up in the van. It was a short drive to this new club the guys were talking about. When we got there, the place was packed. People were standing in crowds in front of the building, shouting and hoping to enter the club. I wasn't much of a club kid myself, but I knew that there was no way in hell that we were getting into that nightclub. There were probably hundreds of people in line. We would be lucky if we got in that week.

I was confused when the guys parked the van, not intimidated by the killer mob of people waiting outside The Twisted Martini. They just walked through the crowd, marching right up to the bouncer. I followed in silence, not sure how they were planning to get in. "Are you guys blind?" I said as they pushed through the crowd. "There are hundreds of people waiting to—"

"Alex," Bam said, throwing his arm over my shoulder, "when are you going to realize that you are club hopping with your new famous friends? The normal rules of life no longer apply to you." I raised an eyebrow, but I realized what he was hinting at. The guys probably just throw around names until they get into the club. _Hey, we're on a show on MTV. Jeff Tremaine is one of our personal friends. You know what? How about we give you a shout out on the next episode, just let us into the club. _They were probably going to sweet-talk this bouncer until we got in.

"Hey dude," said Steve, nodding to the bouncer as we lined up behind the red rope that was keeping us from entering the club. The bouncer looked down at us with intimidating eyes. I had a feeling he wasn't a Jackass fan. "You wanna let us through?" The bouncer eyes flickered around our group, probably thinking we were a bunch of dirty skaters trying to pull a quick one on him. But luckily, the bouncer must have recognized the guys.

"You're from that show, aren't you?" the bouncer said, pointing at Steve. He rubbed his chin, trying to decide where he knew the guys from. "It's called Jackass or something, right?" Steve nodded, working hard to get us into this club.

"That's us," he said in a raspy tone, a wide smile on his face. "Just got back from a day of filming for the show…" The bouncer nodded, removing the red rope. My jaw dropped. I was impressed. I thought there was no way in hell we were getting into this club. I guess Bam was right. Anything was possible when you are partying with famous people.

"You guys can see your way to the VIP section," the bouncer said as he let us all through. Just like that, we had made it through the crowds of people and we were in the club. Inside it was dark, aside from the neon plasma lights that were surrounding the DJ booth. The whole building was crowded with people—mostly girls in tiny dresses and too much makeup. For a second, I felt underdressed, wearing the baggy t-shirt, sneakers, and dirt stained jeans I wore during filming today. But then again, I never dressed up. I just wasn't that kind of girl.

"Hey, Al," Steve said, walking beside me. I could barely hear him over the booming techno music that was being played in the club. "What I did back there…you know, getting us into the club and everything…that was pretty cool right?" I looked at the goofy grin on his face and I shook my head.

"Sure, Steve," I said in a steady voice. "It was awesome."

"So, seeing as how I did that," he started, "you wanna make out?" I rolled my eyes Steve made a kissy face at me.

"I'd rather play another round of Human Target Practice," I said, laughing. "But thanks for the offer." Steve just threw his hands up, shaking his head with a dorky smile still on his face.

"Your loss, Al," he said, pointing to his face. "These lips—they're _magical_."

"There's nothing magical about mouth herpes," Chris said. I started to laugh hysterically as we walked past another bouncer who was guarding the VIP area. He must have gotten a call from the first bouncer we spoke to because he didn't stop us when we got to the door of the VIP area. He let us right in without any questions.

"Shut up, cock blocker!" Steve yelled, punching Chris's arm.

"Like you even had a chance of getting any from her," Chris retorted. He was right about that one. I just dismissed the rest of conversation, looking around as we entered the VIP section. It looked like the main part of the club. It was dark except for select neon lights and there was a bar that was loaded with liquor. Desperate girls clogged up couches and the dance floor. I wondered if these girls were _"celebrities" _that I should know or just Paris Hilton wannabes looking to score with a star.

The guys immediately started ordering drinks and I immediately felt out of my element. I never went to clubs and walking into The Twisted Martini made me remember why. I didn't like the shitty electronic-sounding music and I wasn't much of a dancer. I wasn't a slutty girl looking to get laid and I didn't like the way all the liquor was overpriced for no reason. Plain old bars fit me just fine. Nightclubs like this—well, they just weren't my scene.

Still, alcohol was alcohol no matter where you were getting it. I spent my night throwing back drinks that cost more than my monthly rent. Of course, everything I drank was on MTV's tab, now. I tried to stay sober enough to watch the guys though. Not because I was worried about them, but because watching them make idiots of themselves while they were wasted was beyond hilarious. If you thought they made asses of themselves while they were sober, you should see them after a few shots of patron. But of course, one particular Jackass couldn't just have a good time. I think you know which one I am talking about.

I watched as Johnny sat on a couch, a full glass of scotch in his hands, talking to some chick. And believe me, this girl was working hard—her lips were pursed and she kept laughing and putting her hand on his thigh. Too bad for her, I could tell just be looking at him Johnny was totally over it. He kept looking away from her, inching away from her on couch. But she kept on trying. I had to admit she was persistent, but I decided I would help Knoxville out. He wasn't going to tell her to fuck off, so I would.

"Hey groupie," I said, walking over to them nonchalantly. "Leave while you still have some dignity left." Johnny chuckled, giving me a thankful smile. Groupie Girl looked less than happy, though.

"Excuse me?" she said, narrowing her eyes at me. "Who exactly are you?"

"Britney Spears," I said sarcastically. "Now go." Lucky for me, Groupie Girl didn't stick around for more banter and snide remarks from me. She just left, pulling down her miniscule dress as she walked off. I swear her heels had to be at least six inches tall. She was almost as tall as me with those things on.

I sat next to Johnny and he thanked me for getting rid of the groupie.

"I owed you one," I said. "You got Van to get out of my face that one time, so I helped you out with that groupie chick." Johnny nodded, swirling around the alcohol in his cup. "What was her name?"

"Tasha, I think," he said. "Maybe Tonya. I wasn't really paying attention."

"Why aren't you drinking?" I said, taking Johnny's cup from him. I wasn't going to let a perfectly fine drink go to waste like that.

"I told you, I'm not in a partying mood."

"And I told you I was going to force you to have fun!" I said, sipping from his glass before shoving it back into his hands. "Now finish this drink and I'll go get you three more."

"I have to get drunk to have fun?"

"It would help," I said. Johnny sighed, staring at his drink. I don't know what was holding him back. Whenever I felt like shit, drinking was the first thing I did. The night I caught Van cheating on me, I drank for hours. The only time I felt like I shouldn't be drinking was when I needed to stay in control of my body. If I was afraid of doing something I'd regret, I wouldn't drink. But what was Johnny afraid of doing while he was drunk? Maybe he just wasn't comfortable around me or something.

"Aw, fuck it," he said, downing the scotch. And just like that, the night really started. It was like Johnny finally decided to let go. He just forgot about Naomi and work and weddings and just decided to have some fun. Between the two of us, we finished off a bottle of Grey Goose, but I have to admit that he was drinking most of it. And I wasn't stopping him. I could obviously see that he was beyond wasted. He was rambling on about shit I didn't understand and he was almost sliding off the couch. I wasn't much better, though. I was laughing at everything he said and I was getting that fuzzy feeling you get after drinking for a while. It was nice and warm and I felt happy.

"Let's dance," I said, grabbing Johnny's hand and jerking him off the couch. I knocked over a couple of people's glasses in the process, but I was too drunk to care about that. I just stumbled my way to the dance floor, dragging Johnny the whole way there.

"I don't…I don't _fucking _know how to dance," Johnny said, smiling. He had a dazed look is his eye as he grabbed me, holding onto me for support.

"Either do I!" I shouted over the music. I don't even remember what we were doing out there on the dance floor. I know we were making fools out of ourselves, shouting and hanging all over each other. But for some reason, it didn't matter. It could have just been liquid courage or maybe it was something else, but the idea of grinding on Johnny Knoxville in the middle of a club seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do. I was wasted enough to have lost my inhibitions and Johnny was drunk enough to have passed out right then and there. I guess it didn't really matter what we were doing.

The part after that gets a little fuzzy. I remember getting a few more shots of tequila and then I don't remember anything. And then all I remember is holding onto Johnny as we left the club. And it was like I wasn't me anymore and Johnny wasn't Johnny. We were just people. We could have been strangers for all I knew. But as we walked out of the nightclub, we were suddenly in front of a slew of flashing lights. Being as drunk as I was, I had no fucking clue what was going on at first. But then I realized—it was the paparazzi.

"Johnny, who's the girl?"

"Did you end things with Naomi Simmons, Mr. Knoxville?"

"Is that the new Jackass member?"

"Alex, how are you going to handle this new Jackass lifestyle?"

"I bet Naomi would be disappointed seeing her fiancé like this."

"Oh really?" I slurred, Johnny's arm around my waste. "Well if you see Naomi, can you pass along this message from me?" I gave the paparazzi the middle finger, Johnny laughing as I did so. I didn't see what was so wrong about what I did—all I did was give them the finger—but apparently it is a bad idea to flip off the paparazzi during a cheating scandal with your coworker. I guess I had a lot of learning to do before I got good at this whole celebrity thing.

"Let's go back to my place," Johnny breathed into my ear. He was swinging around a bottle of tequila and the scent of the alcohol was surrounding us. By that time, my senses were pretty much shit. So was my sensibility. I just smiled, following Johnny as he pulled me away from the flashing of cameras and the shouting of the paparazzi. Thankfully, Johnny wasn't so stupid that he tried to drive home. He waved down a taxi and we got in.

"Can't bring alcohol in the taxi," the driver said before we got in. _No problem. _Johnny and I took a couple of finally swigs from the bottle before throwing the bottle to the ground with a smashing sound, causing the paparazzi to take another round of pictures. They were eating this shit up. But we just laughed, climbing into the taxi. How stupid could two people be?

Johnny gave the driver his address as we drove away from the club and the paparazzi. Again, we were all over each other. His hands were on my hips and I was in his lap. He was kissing my neck and I was acting like an idiot. The cab driver was giving me all types of dirty looks, but I thought it was funny. When we arrived at Johnny's place, the driver all but threw us out of his taxi. But Johnny gave the man a wad of bills that was probably worth more than that driver made in a week. That probably lightened his mood a little.

So there we were, tripping up the stairs to Johnny's apartment, kissing each other sloppily. By the time we got inside his apartment, clothes were already coming off. He had pulled my shirt off of me and my hands were on his belt buckle as he led me to his bedroom. This was the ideal one night stand. I was wasted, he was hot, and we would forget about it in the morning. But the thing my drunk self wasn't realizing is that in Hollywood, nothing is ever forgotten. Especially when it is caught on camera by fifteen different paparazzi.

I laughed as Johnny threw me down on his bed, his eyes glossy and disoriented. He crawled on top of me, kissing the side of my face, pulling on the waste of my jeans. But just as he worked removing the layers of clothing that were separating us, I caught eye of something that made me sober up pretty quickly: it was a picture of Naomi on Johnny's bed stand.

I closed my eyes, the feel good effects of alcohol fading away. I couldn't do this. I mean, I could have, but why? What would it change? I didn't want to sleep with Johnny, I just wanted to sleep with someone. It didn't matter if it was Steve or Bam or Wee Man. And that was bad. Really, _really _bad—even for me. Fucking Johnny wouldn't make Van go away any quicker, it wouldn't make getting over him any easier, and it wouldn't help me cope with what he did to me. And for once in my life, I thought about someone besides myself. What would Johnny think in the morning when he realized he slept with one of his coworkers? He had enough of a mess with Naomi on his plate. I was just making it all worse. If I wanted to keep Johnny as a friend, I would have to cut this date short.

"Johnny," I whispered as he kissed my neck. I didn't want him to stop. Just for the night he wanted to be with me. Being wanted was an enticing feeling. How pathetic. I put my hand on his head, pushing him off me firmly. He looked up at me with a confused glint in his eyes. And just like that, any desire I had to screw this guy quickly vanished. He was Johnny Knoxville—that tool I was forced to work with, not some guy I could have fun with for a night and then dump the next day.

"Wh-what?" Johnny stuttered drunkenly, trying to kiss me again. I just pulled away from him.

"We shouldn't," I said. "We can't…" I trailed off, realizing he wasn't listening to me. "Just go to sleep," I said to him. He nodded slowly, like a child who had just been given orders by his parents. He laid back on the bed, but as I shifted to get up, he wrapped his hands around me.

"Goodnight," he muttered, holding me tightly. Being this close to a man felt weird. When I was with Van, he usually spent nights on the couch because I would be angry with him for one reason or another. And having someone hold me so closely—I just wasn't used to it. I could have easily pushed Johnny off me and called a taxi to my own apartment, but I didn't. I just laid there next to him and closed my eyes. We weren't doing anything bad. Just sleeping. I looked over to the picture of Naomi that was sitting on the bed stand. She looked so pretty, but so hallow. Like behind her big brown eyes, there was nothing. And I swore she was staring right me. I swiftly reached out to the picture frame, slamming it down so it wouldn't stare at me all night. Then I closed my eyes, falling asleep quickly.

The next morning came quickly. I was awoken by the blinding sun that was streaming through the window. How did Johnny sleep with all the light in the room? Oh yeah, Johnny…

I turned, seeing him still laying there beside me. His shirt was off, but he was still wearing the same jeans had on from the night before. Luckily, he was still sleeping soundly. I didn't want to talk to him about what happened—or what _didn't _happen—last night. It was stupid, and I was glad I stopped it before we did anything we might regret. But just because we didn't have sex didn't mean we didn't do anything stupid. We still made out. We still slept in the same bed. And sleeping next to him was almost more intimate than sex. But I didn't want to think about how recklessly I acted last night. I just wanted to get out of there before Johnny woke up.

As I slowly climbed out of bed, making sure not to wake Knoxville, I began searching the room for my shirt. I had slept in my bra and jeans, but I wasn't sure where Johnny had tossed my shirt. I paced around the room, knowing it had to be there somewhere. After looking around for about ten minutes I decided to give up on the search. I would just borrow one of Johnny's. I opened one of his dresser drawers looking for a shirt. But inside the drawer, there weren't clothes. Just a bunch of paper and other random junk. I should have just closed the drawer, but I didn't. I snooped.

I put my hand in the drawer, looking through the items. There were color swatches and sticky notes. Pictures of flowers and suit jackets. I grabbed one of the papers that was in the drawer. It was a letter. A letter from Naomi. I skimmed over the letter. It was anything too interesting—just a bunch of details she wanted Johnny to know about the wedding. Then it made sense. She had probably given Johnny all this shit so he knew what to get for the wedding. Color swatches to help him determine what color his tie should be and pictures showing what flowers he was so supposed to order. I dropped the letter back in the drawer. Why was Johnny keeping all this stuff? Had he just been so busy with his work that he didn't have to time to bring it all to the curb? No, that wasn't true. Seeing all that stuff gave me a bad feeling. He was probably still considering going back to her. Fighting the urge to throw all this stuff out myself, I closed the drawer. It was none of my business.

I quickly grabbed a Ramones t-shirt out of another drawer, fleeing the bedroom. Why did I care if Johnny got back with Naomi? He could do whatever he wanted. He _should _do whatever he wanted to. Why did I care if Naomi cheated on Johnny? Why did I feel a pang of jealousy when I saw all those wedding items in Johnny's room? Marriage was never something I cared about. So maybe it wasn't the fact that Naomi was getting the perfect, fairytale wedding that was making me jealous. Maybe I was jealous that she was getting the perfect husband.

I walked into Johnny's bathroom, mentally kicking myself just for thinking that. Johnny—the perfect husband? Was I crazy? Johnny wasn't perfect. I just watched him get wasted in a club to forget about his love life. That was far from perfect. But then again, I was the one egging him on, telling him to take another drink. But still, he wasn't perfect. He was loud and crude and…for some reason I liked it. When I was at the first Jackass meeting I remember seeing him with Naomi. His eyes lit up when she walked in. It was like he was seeing her for the first time. I could tell that he really loved her and he would never do anything that would hurt her. And I wondered why I couldn't have someone like that in my life. Someone who wouldn't hurt me and would live just to see me. Why did I get Van while everyone else got there perfect match?

I sighed, walking into Johnny's bathroom. I was just being emotional. Johnny wasn't any better than any of the other guys. The only difference was I almost slept with Johnny. I turned on the sink faucet, splashing my face with water. I was feeling pretty shitty after all that drinking I did last night. I opened his medicine cabinet, hoping to find a bottle of Tylenol or something. But I didn't find anything. No pills, no prescriptions, nothing interesting. Just a tube of toothpaste and a boxed inhaler. _He must have asthma or something, _I thought, reaching for the toothpaste. This guy was squeaky clean. How boring. I shut the medicine cabinet, beginning my old one night stand traditions. I put some toothpaste on my finger, spreading it over my teeth in hopes of getting the stale taste of liquor out of my mouth. I rinsed my mouth out with water, feeling sort of pathetic. I wished none of this ever happened.

I left the bathroom, walking back into Johnny's bedroom. My first instinct was too just leave, but I felt bad leaving him there without any explanation. I sighed, looking around for something to leave him a note with. I found a sharpie on top of his dresser, but there was no paper available. I sighed, walking over to Johnny and quickly writing a message out on his chest. _Sorry about last night, _I wrote, _but thanks for the Ramones shirt. _I capped the marker, making my way out of the room, happy that I was giving him some explanation of what happened.

I exited his apartment, hopefully looking better than I felt. While I walked myself to the door, I noticed how nice his apartment was. It was a hell of a lot nicer than mine. New furniture, framed pictures on the walls…it was amazing. Like something out of magazine. There was no way Johnny decorated this place—Naomi had to have helped him furnish the place. It was too matchy-matchy to be the work of some Jackass. I had been at his apartment before, but I this was the first time I was getting a full tour of the place. And I have to say, I was impressed. But being in his amazing apartment made me feel even more out of place. I wasn't supposed to be here. This was all wrong. I was just glad to be leaving and getting past all this shit with Johnny. But as I walked down the stairs of Johnny's apartment building, prepared to flag down a cab, I knew I wasn't going to be forget about any of last night's events for a long time.

I was swarmed by a crowd of paparazzi.


	6. Life of the Party (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Six: Life of the Party (Johnny)_

"Johnny! Pick up the fucking phone! _Now!_"

I fell out of bed, my head pounding and my heart racing. The loud phone call had jolted me from my sleep. I scrambled to grab the phone. It realized that it was Jeff calling and he sounded pretty pissed off about something. _Did I do something bad last night?_ I couldn't remember doing anything wrong…

"Yeah, Jeff?" I said, picking up the phone. I could have fallen back asleep right then and there while I was on the phone with him. I was just so tired. _What happened last night?_ I thought, rubbing my head. I remembered going to the club and I remembered getting a few drinks with Al. Well, maybe more than a few. But after that, I didn't remember anything.

"Did you lose your mind, Johnny?" Jeff said sternly on the other line. "Seriously? Did you take one too many hits last week? Because this is…this is beyond bad." I was shocked. I assumed he was calling with a story about some stupid shit Steve or Bam did, not me. I was clueless to what Jeff was speaking about. Maybe this was some kind of prank.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Jeff," I replied. If this was a prank, I wasn't going to feed into it. "Are you fucking with me or something?" There was an uneasy pause on the other side of the phone and I knew Jeff wasn't kidding around. I had a feeling I was in deep shit.

"Jesus Christ, Johnny!" Jeff yelled. "You don't even remember? That is—oh God. I don't know what I am going to do with all you jackasses. Do you realize people are watching your every move? And when you get drunk and do stupid shit, people find out. And when people decide you are some washed up drunk and they don't like you anymore, ratings plummet, and we are all out of jobs!"

"I-I'm sorry?" I said, not sure how to respond to Jeff's angry speech. It was hard to feel bad about doing something when you don't know what you did wrong. But Jeff wasn't listening to me anyway. He was too busy yelling.

"I understand that you are going through a rough patch with Naomi and everything," Jeff continued, "but it is like I have to babysit you guys or you pull some shit like this. Steve is smoking crack, Bam is cheating on his girlfriend, and now you're on every cover of every tabloid in California—no, in the whole country! TMZ's got videos so it is on the internet, too. I don't know what to do with you two. You're fighting one minute, then your best friends, now this? It is called self control, Johnny!"

"What happened?" I said. I was completely lost now. I had no idea what he was mad at me about. What could I have done that was that bad? And no matter what I did, why did it matter? Us Jackass guys didn't have the best reputations in Hollywood and no one ever cared. We weren't role models, we were undertrained stuntmen. Who cared what we did on our free time?

"Come to my office," Jeff said. "We need to do something about this. And quick. Maybe you'll have to come out with a statement or something…I don't know. Just get over here." He hung up the phone. I was still confused as fuck and my head was still pounding and I didn't want to go into the office. I just wanted to sleep for the next seven days, but that wasn't going to happen. I hung up the phone drearily, trudging back into my bedroom. I must have immediately passed out when I got home last night, because I was still wearing my jeans from the night before. I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I was getting too old to be blacking out like this.

Before I could make it to my bedroom, a knock at the door made my head ache hurt ten times worse than it already did. As badly as I wanted to ignore whoever was at my door, that rapid knocking was making me feel sick, so I went to answer it. I walked to the door, pulling it open, expecting to see one of the guys on the other side, waiting to fill me in on what I did last night. But I was wrong. Naomi was standing there.

I hadn't talked to Naomi since I dumped her over the phone on out first day of filming. Of course, she had been calling, but I just didn't pick up. I didn't have anything to say to her. I wasn't ready to see her again. But apparently, she was ready to see me. "Johnny," she started. It took all the kindness in my heart not to slam the door in her face. I was shocked to see her standing there. She really had some nerve to show up after I saw the pictures of her with all those guys, but I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I just swallowed my pride and let her talk. "I need to explain myself," she continued. She needed to explain herself? She didn't want to apologize, she just wanted to explain herself? I gritted my teeth. "What you read in that magazine was completely—_what is that?_" Naomi's eyebrows furrowed as she pointed at me.

"What is _what_?" I said, looking down to where she was pointing. Then I saw it. Written on my chest was the message _Sorry about last night, but thanks for the Ramones shirt. _I was just as shocked as Naomi was to see that one.

"What happened last night?" Naomi hissed. "Who wrote that?"

"I don't know," I murmured, rubbing the sharpie letters with my hand. But after I got over the fact that someone had been writing all over me last night, I realized Naomi was mad at me. She didn't have the right to be mad at me. I broke up with her. I was a free man. I could do whatever I wanted to and I could let any girl write on me. That sounded weird. "You know what, Naomi?" I said. "It is none of your business what happened last night. We are over."

"Don't say that," she said, stepping closer to me. "I'm sorry for that—I'm just protective over you." I rolled my eyes. "I don't care if you slept with someone last night. We both made mistakes. Now we can move past all of it and continue to get ready for the wedding." She put her hand on my chest. I stared at her hand and I saw that she was still wearing the engagement ring I gave her.

"Why are you wearing that?" I snarled. "You weren't wearing it when you were at clubs with those other guys. You probably weren't wearing it when you were fucking them, either."

"Johnny!" she shouted. "I am sorry! I messed up, okay! What do you want me to do?" I didn't know what I wanted her to do. Part of me knew that there was nothing she could do to fix our relationship. There were problems between her and I before this whole cheating scandal, and now that I knew about her being unfaithful, it just gave me an excuse to break things off with her. Another part of me was telling me that we could fix things. That if I just forgave her, things would go back to normal. But did I really want things to go back to normal? In our relationship, normal meant fighting and shouting. Something between us was broken that couldn't be repaired. I would never be able to look at her the same way. And she probably felt the same way about me. I sighed, pulling her hands off of me.

"I need time," I said, leaving her in the hallway outside my apartment. "And take the ring off. It makes you look stupid." I closed the door behind me. I couldn't tell if I was doing the right thing. I mean, Naomi was a beautiful girl. She was a sweet girl and a loving girl. She would make some guy really happy one day, but I didn't think that I was going to be that guy. And she was right: I made mistakes too. Maybe I did go out with the boys too much and maybe I didn't put enough time into our relationship. Maybe I would find a girl that wouldn't mind all of my faults. But I couldn't settle down with Naomi. I would just be lying to her. Leading her on. Convincing her that everything was okay when it wasn't. She didn't deserve it and either did I.

My quick encounter with Naomi just added to my already shitty day. I dressed quickly and headed out to Jeff's office. I was dreading this meeting with Jeff. I almost never fought with Tremaine, but when he got angry at me it was always really bad. But I couldn't deny it—I was curious to hear what I did last night. Hopefully it was a good story. If thousands of people were going to be reading about it in magazines across America like Jeff said they were, I wanted them to be entertained.

I parked outside the offices, heading into the building. I rode the elevator to the Jackass floor, which was almost deserted. Most people were off for the next week. Jeff and a few other editors were the only people who would be coming into work every day. Of course, the Jackass guys would come by the offices for one reason or another from time to time during the break. That is why I wasn't surprised when I stepped out of the elevator and saw Bam walking down the hall.

"Johnny!" Bam yelled when he saw me. He was smiling from ear to ear and I wasn't sure why he was so happy to see me. But I just smiled back.

"Hey man," I said. Bam just kept smiling at me. It was kind of…_creepy._

"No, dude," he said. "_You _are the man. I can't believe you hit that…I knew you could do it, though. I told you that the ladies love you. And besides, there was so much sexual tension between you two. That is why you were fighting so much. It is because you two wanted to fuck so bad—"

"What?" I said, raising an eyebrow. He lost me at _No. _I was too hung over for this shit.

"You don't remember it?" Bam said. "Aw, your loss. That girl is probably a freak in the sack. Well I think Jeff will make it all clear for you. He is pissed off…"Why did everyone remember this crazy night I had except for me? I almost felt left out. I sighed, heading in the direction of Jeff's office. "Good luck, Knox!" Bam called with a snicker. I had a feeling I was going to need all the luck I could get.

I walked into Jeff's office, sliding my sunglasses off my face. Jeff was sitting behind his desk. I sat down in one of the chairs, looking at Alex, who was also sitting in Jeff's office. That was weird. I stared at her for a moment, looking down at her shirt. It was a Ramones shirt. _My _Ramones shirt.

Fuck.

I sat down, realizing what happened last night. I took a girl home. Alex. I groaned and Alex shot me a sympathetic smile. How could I have done that…with her? We were just becoming friends. Why did I have to go and screw it all up? I sat down, feeling like a high school student that was about to get a scolding from the principal.

"So, where should I start?" Jeff said, showing us a stack of magazines. He began flipping through them, reading us the headlines. "_Johnny Knoxville Hits Rock Bottom, Johnny Caught In Another Cheating Scandal, Johnny Knoxville Robbing the Cradle, Alexandra Kidd: Jackass or Home Wrecker?_"

"Home wrecker?" Alex said with a snicker. "That's a new one." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I was in shock. I couldn't believe that something had actually happened between me and Alex. I tried piecing together my night, but I couldn't remember a thing happening between Alex and me. Not a hug or a kiss, not anything. I wouldn't have guessed in a million years that I brought Alex home last night. It didn't seem possible. But come to think of it, it was pretty obvious that Alex had spent the night with me. I mean, who writes all over a guy with permanent marker after a one night stand? _Only Alex._

"It's not funny, Al!" Jeff said, slamming down the magazines. "The new episodes of Jackass haven't even aired yet, but people are already seeing you like this!" He showed us the cover of _Star Magazine_. There was a picture of Alex flipping off the paparazzi and me holding onto her drunkenly. I didn't remember even leaving the club. Seeing the photos was just weird. "Before people watch Jackass, they are going to already think you are some kind of…"

"Whore?" Alex said, saying the word that Jeff was too much of a pussy to say himself.

"Yes, actually," Jeff said quickly. "And Johnny, what the fuck were you thinking? Last week people were talking about Naomi cheating on you, and now they see this? How do you think this is going to go over with fans? They were all on your side when Naomi was the cheater, but now you are just some drunken player!" Both Alex and I were silent. What was I supposed to say to that? Sorry for going out and having some fun? Sorry for sleeping with a hot girl?

"Come on, Jeff," Alex said after a few moments of silence passed. "So what? A few magazines are saying I'm sleeping with Johnny? Who gives a shit? What are people expecting the Jackass cast to act like? Just because I am the new girl doesn't mean I not going to party and have fun."

"You don't get it, Alex," Jeff said, shaking his head. "You haven't been in this industry long enough to understand. And there is a huge difference between a girl who likes to party and a…"

"Slut?" Alex said promptly, finishing Jeff's statement once again.

"Yes," he murmured. "As fucked up as you might think it is, people don't like it when they see girls going out and getting hammered and getting laid afterwards. Those girls are pegged as trashy. If a guy does it, people cut them some slack. It is just the way it is. And I don't want the new Jackass girl to be ridiculed and judged. You aren't the girl that these magazines are making you out to be."

"I promise I won't cry if someone calls me a slut," Alex said mockingly. "Now are we done here?"

"Alex, this is serious," Jeff said. "People are vicious. They are just waiting to tear you to shreds. Don't give them an excuse to do it. And if you are going to, then maybe you aren't right for this industry. Maybe you aren't right for our show."

"Maybe you're right, Jeff," Alex said. "Because I'm not going to change the way I am for anyone. I've always done what I want and I'm not going to stop now. I don't give a damn what you or anyone else thinks. I'll fuck every guy on this cast if I feel like it—"

"Okay," I said, breaking into the conversation, cringing at Alex's hasty words. "I think we understand what we did wrong. So what do you want us to do now, Jeff?" Jeff sighed, thinking about it for a moment. I shook my head at Alex, who just shrugged. She needed to learn when to shut the mouth of hers. I could imagine her saying something like that during an interview. Imagine the fun TMZ could have with a few statements like that.

"Well, hopefully we won't have to do anything. If we are lucky, Lindsay Lohan will go back to rehab and you guys will be old news," Jeff said. "Just avoid the paparazzi like the fucking plague. No big clubs for a while, okay? And you two should probably stay apart for a while. No getting drunk and hanging all over each other. No talking to the paparazzi about each other. Actually, don't talk to the paparazzi at all. Can you guys do that for me?"

"Sure thing," I said. "I've always hated the paparazzi, anyway."

"Fine by me," Alex said in a dull tone. Jeff sighed.

"I'm not trying to be a prick, Al," Jeff said. "Nothing I say is personal. I'm trying to be your boss right now, not your friend. o no hard feelings, okay?"

"I know, Jeff," she said. "This show is important to you guys. I'm just getting used to all of this shit. But you knew I was going to cause you trouble the minute you found me."

"You _were _causing me trouble the moment I found you," he replied with a smile. He looked back down at one of the magazines, flipping through the pages. "I can't believe you aren't flipping out over this, Al. I mean, this is a lot of shit to take in at once." His eyes skimmed over an article. After a moment, he looked up at me and then Alex. "Did you guys actually…" he trailed off. "Never mind. I don't want to know. That is something you should keep between the two of yourselves—"

"We didn't," Alex said curtly, standing up. "See you guys next week."

Wait…we didn't?

I practically chased Alex as she left the office. I needed to talk to her. I had to know what exactly happened last night, so I followed her to the elevator. I stood beside her awkwardly as she waited for the next elevator. I didn't know how to start a conversation with her. Asking, _"Hey Alex, did we screw last night?"_ seemed a little rude. Luckily, Alex broke the ice for me.

"Well," she said, looking at me with a goofy smile, "this is pretty awkward, isn't it?" We both laughed. It was like she could read my mind. I was glad she was feeling the same way I was about this situation. It would have been a lot harder to deal with Jeff and the paparazzi and everything else if Alex wasn't on the same page as me.

"I have to be completely honest," I said as the doors of the elevator opened. "I don't remember much of last night. Actually, I barely remember any of it." Alex chuckled, walking onto the elevator. I followed her in.

"Wow," she said, sounding a little disappointed. "Last night was mind blowing. I mean, that was the best sex I have had in years, and you don't even remember it? I must not be as good as I thought I was." I looked at her with wide eyes.

"Wait," I said. "You told Jeff that we didn't do anything." I was mentally kicking myself for forgetting last night's events. I had mind blowing sex with Alex and I didn't remember it? Damn. That wasn't even fair. "I—you…" I scrambled to gather my thoughts. "Was it really that good?" Alex immediately broke into laughter, pressing the ground floor button on the elevator door.

"Seriously, Johnny?" she chuckled. "I thought you were going to be asking if we used protection or if I was on the pill or something like that. But all you want to know is how good it was." She continued to laugh, shaking her head. "We didn't really do anything last night. No sex. I was just messing with you."

"Oh," I said with a sigh. "I thought we…wow. I need to quit drinking." The fact that I couldn't remember what I did last night was kind of scary. But if I had to black out with anyone, I was glad it was Alex. When it came down to it, she had a good head on her shoulders. She wouldn't have let me do anything I would have regretted.

"How much do you remember?" Alex said as the elevator doors opened up once again. I walked beside her as she exited the building. "Obviously you remember going to the club. What else do you remember doing that night?" I thought about it for a moment. The whole night was pretty hazy, but I did remember bits and pieces of it.

"Well, I remember that I was really out of it when we got to the VIP section of the club. So I just sat down and watched the guys get wasted. And then some girl came up to me and she started talking to me. And she was annoying as hell, so you told her to fuck off," I explained. I smiled, thinking about Alex's actions. I probably would have still been at that club listening to that girl go on and on about her life if Alex didn't come and rescue me. I don't know why I couldn't have just been like the other guys. They would bring home any girl that talked to them. I used to be like that, but now I just felt paranoid. All those girls just wanted something other than a one night stand. Money, fame, whatever. I just couldn't be as carefree as I used to be.

"So," I continued. "Then you came over and you told me to lighten up so we started drinking. And I drank so much that I could barely walk." Alex laughed as we walked out to the front of the building. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She took out a cigarette for herself and another for me. "And I remember doing a bunch of shots. And didn't we start dancing?" Alex chuckled, a lit cigarette dangling between her lips.

"It was more like dry humping on the dance floor," she said, lighting my cigarette. "I'm glad the paparazzi didn't get any pictures of that." I nodded in agreement. The tabloids were already having a field day with us and we weren't even kissing in the pictures they had. I could only imagine what they would do with pictures of us dancing. I chuckled at how silly it all was. As I stared out at the parking lot, I saw a guy with a camera wondering around.

"Speaking of the paparazzi," I said, nudging Alex, "I think that is one over there." She looked in the direction I was pointing in, spotting him as well. "You heard what Jeff said. We should probably get out of here." Alex cackled, staring at me as if she didn't know if I was being serious. She blew out a cloud of smoke, shaking her head.

"Fuck what Tremaine said," she hissed. "I'm not hiding from some asshole with a camera. I don't even think he can see us…" Just as she said that the paparazzo stopped, snapping some photos of us from across the parking lot. I sighed, but Alex laughed, shooting the photographer the finger. I guess that was going to be her signature pose.

"Stop it, Al," I said, pulling her arm down and avoiding eye contact with the man with the camera. "You're not supposed to feed the paparazzi. When you react to them, they stick around longer." She just chuckled as the paparazzo retreated, having gotten enough incriminating photos for the day.

"I think it's funny," Alex said, stating the obvious. "Do people really care about us? Don't they have their own lives to worry about? Why do they care what we're doing?" I didn't know. Most of the stories they printed were lies, anyway. I guess people just bought into the fantasy. Because the lies they made up about us all were a lot more interesting than the truth. "When I left your apartment this morning," Alex said, "there were paparazzi all over the place. And they were yelling all these questions and shit. It was like any other walk of shame, except ten times worse. It was crazy. I've never experienced anything like that. It was like walking through an angry mob or something."

"Are you serious?" I said. "They were harassing you? You should have woken me up! I would have made sure those paparazzi backed the fuck up." Alex snickered.

"My hero," she said mockingly. I elbowed her playfully. She was so stubborn. "So, is that all you remember from last night?" Alex said, switching back to our original topic. I nodded. After the drinking and the dancing, I was completely blank.

"That's it," I said. "You want to fill me in on the rest?"

"I was drinking too, you know," she said."My memory of last night isn't perfect, but it is a lot better than yours. You were really putting them back, Knox." I laughed. "That's what happens when you stay cooped up in your house for weeks and then come out all of a sudden. But anyways, back to last night." She took one last drag from her cigarette before putting it out on the bottom of her sneaker. "Well, we were drinking and dancing and then we decided to get out of there. The music they play in nightclubs sucks, anyways." I smiled, agreeing with her. "So, we went outside to wave down a cab, but all the paparazzi were there. And one of them said some shit about how Naomi would be disappointed if she saw you with me."

"So you gave them the finger?" I said, referencing the pictures I saw in the magazines Jeff had. "Basically," she replied. I guess when Naomi came over this morning, she didn't hear about this whole incident. There was no way in hell that Naomi would be on my doorstep apologizing to me if she knew that Alex was the girl I spent the night with. And if she knew that Alex had talked about her to the paparazzi, she would have gone berserk. "So we got a taxi and went to your place. And you tipped the driver way too much, by the way." She snickered. "But we went up to your apartment—which is really nice by the way—and we started kissing and we went in your room, but then we stopped and went to sleep." I narrowed my eyes. I was still upset that I didn't remember any of the night. When was I going to get the chance to make out with Alex again? Probably never. But on top of that, I was disappointed on how Alex chose to end the story.

"What?" I said in disbelief. "We just stopped? Bullshit, Alex. What happened?" There was no way we just went to sleep. Once two drunks get going, there is no stopping them. I stared at Alex as she bit her lip, thinking about it a little bit.

"You couldn't keep a stiffy," she chuckled. While that was plausible, I was pretty it wasn't true.

"Come on, Al," I begged, needing to know what took place last night. "What happened?" She rubbed her eyes, thinking about it. Why would we have just stopped like that? I barely have any self control when I am sober, so I highly doubted that I would have made out with Alex all night and then decided to go to sleep.

"Well, I saw this picture of Naomi in your room," she finally spoke. "And I felt bad." I actually laughed after she said that. She felt bad for Naomi? That was crazy talk. "What?" Alex said defensively.

"Forget about Naomi," I said, still sucking on my cigarette. "I'm done with her. Really, I am. Talked to her just this morning. We are over." Alex nodded. "Oh, and she loved the message you left for me," I said, lifting up my shirt. Alex laughed, seeing the sharpie letters she left on my chest. "You know, I scrubbed this shit for like, fifteen minutes and it still isn't gone."

"They call it permanent marker for a reason," she chuckled.

"You could have left your name or something," I said, putting my shirt back down. "Or at least a phone number. I would have been a lot less confused this morning if I knew who was in my bed last night." She laughed, pushing my playfully.

"I didn't know you were going to black out!" Alex said.

"And then you go and steal my shirt?" I added sarcastically.

"Well you threw my shirt somewhere," she explained. "I couldn't find it this morning." I stared at her, transfixed by her words. _She was taking her clothes off, too? _Damn. The more she talked about our drunken stupor the more I hated myself for blacking out. She was there on my bed and I was too drunk to seal the deal. What an asshole. "I'll give you the shirt back if you want me to," she said quizzically after a few moments. She was probably confused to why I was staring at her.

"Oh, no," I stuttered. "Keep it. It looks better on you, anyway." And seeing her walk around in my clothes was a total turn on, but I wasn't going to say that. _Damn_—I shouldn't have even _thought _that. Maybe Bam was right. There could have been some kind of sexual tension between Alex and I. But it ended there. It wasn't like I wanted to be with her. Sure, I liked talking to her and I liked thinking about her. But she was still so headstrong. She was probably too willful to even be in a relationship. Dating her would be complicated. Too complicated. I tried to shake the thought.

"Stop the press!" she said mockingly. "Did I just get a half-assed compliment from Johnny Knoxville? _The _Johnny Knoxville? Wait until TMZ hears about this one. They will be losing their shit." I smiled, chuckling. Joking with her was so easy. Talking to her was easy. Whenever I talked to Naomi, she would always scold me for being too loud or too obnoxious. But with Alex, it was like talking to someone who was on the same level as me. She always understood where I was coming from. But why was I comparing my relationship with my ex-fiancée with my relationship with my new coworker. The two had nothing to do with each other…or did they?

"TMZ doesn't care about that," I said. "They only want to know about the bad stuff. And they are gonna stalk you until they find it." Alex shook her head.

"I don't know how long I am going to be able to put up with all this paparazzi shit," she said. "I have only had a couple run-ins with them, but I am already over all of it. I don't want to be followed and talked about." She sighed. "Maybe Jeff is right. The entertainment industry might not be for me."

"No way, Alex," I said. "You know what? You have only seen the bad side of this industry." She looked up at me, interested in what I had to say. "You've been through coworker fights and tabloid drama. You've seen some of the terrible things people are saying about you. It isn't pretty, but there are a lot of benefits of being a celebrity." She sighed. I knew what she was thinking. I thought the same thing when I started Jackass. _Me? A celebrity? No way. I'm just some idiot that got lucky and ended up on a TV show. _But after a few years of being followed by paparazzi and other Hollywood pests, you realize you aren't that normal anymore.

"I know one benefit," Alex said. "The pay is good." I laughed.

"There are a lot of things other than that, though," I said. "You are going to have a huge group of fans who will stick up for you know matter what. And come on, we never work when we are on set. We have fun for a living. We get paid for acting stupid on camera. How does life get better than that?" Alex shrugged, nodding in agreement. "Just tell everyone to go fuck themselves and have some fun. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. So better enjoy it while we can."

"You're a pretty optimistic dude, Johnny," Alex said. I smiled. I had never thought of myself as an optimist, but maybe she was right.

"Maybe you're just too negative," I replied. "Your life is going to be changing. You've got to just get used to it. Change is a good thing." She looked at me and nodded in agreement. And standing there and talking to her, I realized that a part of me wanted to be more than her friend. I could help her while she got used to this industry. I could protect her from the paparazzi and the tabloids. I would treat her better than Van had treated her. But there was no way she could have felt the same way about me. She was so wild and carefree. She didn't want to be in a relationship, especially after being cheated on by Van. And I shouldn't be getting into a relationship either. I just broke up with my fiancée. I should still be mourning the loss, but for some reason all I could think about is the possibility of a future with Alex. But I realized that I was blankly staring at Alex again, so I chuckled uneasily, trying to lighten the situation.

"But you know Alex," I said sarcastically, "if you ever need to talk to someone, don't be afraid to give me a call. And if you ever want to finish what we started last night…" Alex laughed, pushing me.

"Not in your wettest dream, Knoxville!" she shouted, laughing.

"You can't blame a guy for trying," I said. She just shook her head, a smile on her face. Looking at her with that bright smile, I knew I was going to keep trying for a long time.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

I sighed, flopping down on the couch and turning on the television. A couple of hours had passed since my _meeting _with Jeff, and luckily I had been able to enjoy that time in the privacy of my own home. No interruptions from Naomi, Jeff, or anyone. I just unplugged the phone and kicked back, trying to clear my mind of all the stress of Hollywood. And when you want to forget about your problems, what is better than watching a little TV?

I flipped the channels, looking for some sports station. I hadn't sat down and watched a game in a while. But as I changed the channel, some talk show caught my eye. It was a bunch of women sitting around a table, discussing pop culture. But today, they were discussing my life—my personal, private life, which was none of their business. But there they all were, talking about my relationships. I sighed, staring at the screen, feeling bitter. If I knew what was good for me, I would have just turned the TV off, but no, I had to watch as a bunch of women talked about what a terrible person I was.

"So, here is our next story," said an older woman with a short haircut. "Johnny Knoxville, a young star on MTV's show Jackass, was seen outside a club last night. He was obviously intoxicated, and he is getting into a taxi with the new female cast member of the show, Alexandra Kidd." The audience gasped as if they just heard I murdered someone. "And all this is happening only days after his fiancée, Naomi Simmons, was seen going to clubs with other men!" Again, the audience gasped. They overdramatized everything on these shows…

"Well, I think this is horribly demeaning," said an African American woman, crossing her arms. "When MTV said they were putting a girl on the cast, I know many women were overjoyed. As a supporter of women's' rights, I was excited too. But filming has just started on Jackass, and she is already getting drunk in public and flirting with her coworkers? It is appalling." The audience clapped.

"Flirting?" said a red-haired woman. "These photos suggest they were doing a lot more than flirting. He is groping her in most of the pictures." Some of the pictures the paparazzi took flashed on the screen. "What she is doing is pretty demeaning to women. She is proving that in the entertainment industry, if you don't have something between your legs, you better be prepared to suck a few to get anywhere." The audience laughed hysterically. I was vibrating with anger. How could they sit there and say Alex was degrading woman? They didn't know a thing about Alex! They didn't know a thing about me, either. Alex was a lot stronger and a lot smarter than they thought. She had been through so many hardships in her life—who were they to judge her? And they were suggesting that she was sleeping with me to get a spot on Jackass? That was bullshit. I wanted to flip the channel, but I couldn't. I had to know what else they were going to accuse me of.

"I don't think that Alexandra is the one who is to blame for all of this," said a young blonde girl. "It is the guy. Men in Hollywood think they are invincible today. Johnny Knoxville shouldn't be acting like this. He is thirty years old and he needs to start getting his act together. Alex Kidd is only twenty-two. She is still having fun. She has no reported boyfriend and she is being thrown into an industry that is full of temptations. She should enjoy herself while she can!" The audience had mixed reactions towards her statement. Some clapped and some sighed.

"You're right. People shouldn't expect that much from her," said the redhead. "She is on one of the most provocative shows on MTV where she does crazy stunts that most girls wouldn't even consider doing! People should have assumed that she was going to be wild. The guys on the cast our pretty reckless, so why can't the girl be? People assume that the girl should be more polite and more put together than all the boys are. Those are unfair double standards."

"Well, none of them should be behaving like that," said the older woman. "Kids watch Jackass. Kids look up to these people. They are doing drugs, talking about sex, and getting drunk in public. I don't think MTV is making the right decision if they keep the show on the air. Johnny Knoxville and the rest of the cast need to realize that they are role models now. They need to clean up their acts."

"In all fairness, though, we haven't heard anything negative about Johnny Knoxville before this," said the blonde. "He seemed pretty down to earth when the show started. Like the boy next door. He was humble and he just got engaged to Naomi Simmons, who seemed like a well mannered beauty. He was a very relatable southern boy. But when all these stories about Naomi's infidelity came out, things seemed to start going downhill for him."

"When I read about Naomi cheating on Johnny, I didn't want to believe it," said the black woman. "It was sad. They seemed like the perfect couple. I thought she was such a sweet girl! Whenever she was interviewed, she was always so shy and quiet. I guess Hollywood really brings out the worst in people." The audience clapped, suggesting they agreed with what she was saying.

"And there have been conflicting stories about whether or not Johnny and Naomi are still engaged," the redhead replied. "Some people say they are still together, but some people say they broke up a while ago. But Naomi is still wearing her engagement ring, so I would assume that they are still going through with the marriage. But they have both been seen with other people. Maybe they have some kind of open relationship…"

"At the end of the day, it doesn't matter," said the blonde. "People like the show. People like Johnny and the rest of the cast. And we are all interested in Alexandra Kidd. I think I can speak for everyone when I say I am going to watch Jackass and I am going to want to know every bit of drama that goes on in these people's lives. No matter if we approve or disapprove, we are still going to want to know more about—"

I turned off the television, flinging the remote, wishing I hadn't watched that stupid talk show. I had been working with MTV for a while now. I had been working in the entertainment industry for even longer. But all this gossip and shit—I wasn't used to any of it. It was stressful and tiresome. I hated knowing that people were spreading complete lies about my friends and I, but there was nothing I could do about it. They would never hear my side of the story. I didn't want them to know my side. I just wanted them to shut up and say out of my business. Was that really too much to ask?

I wondered how Alex was going to feel after she realized how bad the backlash from our night out clubbing was. How would she be able to handle people talking about her, saying she was a whore and a bad role model for kids and women everywhere? As soon as the question entered my mind, I quickly dismissed it. Alex could take care of herself. She was better than all this petty shit talking. She would have probably laughed if she saw that talk show. She was so new to all this stuff, but I knew she would be able to handle it. She was strong. There I go, thinking about her again. I laid back, closing my eyes, wondering what she was doing at that moment. I wondered if she was thinking about me. I wondered if she ever thought about me. Just as I settled into these thoughts, I knock at my door brought me back to reality.

"Knoxville! Open the door!" said a familiar, raspy voice coming from outside my apartment. I sighed, wishing everyone would just leave me alone for the rest of the break from filming. But after the stir I caused with Alex, I guess you could say I was expecting this reaction from the guys. They were going to want to know everything. Too bad for them, I didn't remember a thing.

I opened the door of my apartment, expecting to see Steve on the other side, but I was mistaken. Steve was there, but so were Bam, Dunn, and Chris. I sighed, rubbing my head. "You had to bring the whole motley crew?" I said. Steve just laughed, pushing his way into my apartment. The Jackass cast did tend to travel as a pack.

"I still can't believe you fucked her," Chris said as he followed Steve into my place. If this was how my friends were acting about the whole ordeal, I could only imagine how Naomi was going to react when she found out. And what about the fans of Jackass? What would they think about all of this? "I mean, I believe that you would fuck her," Chris continued as he sat down on the couch, "but I can't believe that she fucked you…"

"I can," Bam said, sitting down next to Chris. Bam had been waiting for years for me to screw a girl that _wasn't _Naomi. Now that I did, he was overjoyed. And the fact that Alex was the chick I brought home was blowing his mind. "I told you before," Bam spoke, "all the fighting shit was just sexual tension. I never believed it though. She wanted you from day one—"

"Aw, this isn't fair," Steve said, holding a gossip magazine in his hands. He put down the magazine he was reading and looked at me. "I've been nothing but nice to Alex since she got here. And Johnny was a dick to her, but she sleeps with him? I would have loved taking that girl to bed."

"Maybe she doesn't like cokeheads," Chris said with a laugh. "You're the guy that girls fuck when Johnny turns them down. And besides, she is _way _out of your league. I thought she was out of all of our leagues."

"Apparently not Johnny's," Steve said. "He does a couple of movies and then girls start throwing their panties at him like he's Jim Morrison or something—"

"So, how was she, Knox?" Bam asked. "Probably a lot better than that missionary bitch, Naomi."

"Are you guys serious?" Dunn spoke up. "We have been working with Alex and going out with her every night. Does she really strike you as the type of girl to fuck a guy right after he dumps his fiancée? She is too good for that. And even is she did fuck Johnny, she is still our friend. Stop talking about her like she is some kind of whore."

I sighed, caught in the middle of the guys' debate over who I was sleeping with. I wished I could just plead the fifth so all the guys could just drop the discussion, but I knew it wouldn't work. I had to tell them truth—the very boring truth. They were either going to be really disappointed or they weren't going to believe me. And I was preparing myself to be called a liar.

"Guys," I said, silencing them all. "Stop believing all that bullshit your reading in those magazines. It is just a bunch of lies. I mean, we left the bar together but we didn't do anything. I mean, we didn't do much. But, I don't really remember a lot of what happened. I was drinking a lot, you know?" I realized I was talking myself off a cliff, so I just stopped.

"Oh, come on Knoxville," Bam said. "You brought her back to your place and you didn't do anything? That is straight bullshit." I shook my head, demanding that I was telling the truth. I knew the guys were going to think I was lying, but it wasn't. Sure, I might have wished I went all the way with Alex, but what I wanted to do doesn't matter. What is important is that we didn't actually do anything.

"Well if you didn't do anything with her, than what is this?" Steve said. I looked over to him and I saw him picking up a shirt off the floor that was way too small to be mine. _Damn. _So Alex couldn't find her shirt this morning, but Steve found it in ten minutes. _Life wasn't fair._

"Okay, that looks a lot worse than it really is," I started, but none of the guys were having it.

"So, let me get this straight," Steve said, laughing. "Alex came over here after a night at the club, took off her shirt, and then left?" All the guys were laughing. I wanted to tell Steve that he was basically right, but there was no point. Unless I told them I was sleeping with her, which I wasn't, they weren't going to believe a word I said.

"Okay, we started drinking and then we went back to my place. And we started making out, but she stopped me before we could do anything," I said plainly. "Then she went to sleep and the next morning, she left. That is what happened. End of story. No drunk sex or whatever they are talking about in the tabloids. Nothing. Just sleep." The guys were silent, not sure whether or not they should question me or not. My story had to seem somewhat plausible to them. It was the truth, for God's sake.

"Told you guys," Ryan said. "No way was she going to sleep with him."

"Well why didn't she let you get it in?" Bam said. "You were there, she was taking her clothes off…why didn't you just seal the deal while you had the chance? I sure as fuck would have." I thought about it for a minute. Alex told me she stopped because she didn't think my relationship with Naomi was over. For some reason, I didn't want to tell the guys that. I just came up with a generic, believable answer, hoping no one would object.

"She sobered up and realized she was about to make a huge mistake by sleeping with some asshole she works with," I laughed. "Come on, this is Alex we are talking about." The guys nodded, finally agreeing with me.

"She probably did it just to fuck with you, Knoxville," Chris said. "She got you wasted, went back to your place, took her clothes off, and then left. She is like the world's biggest tease." I laughed, telling Chris that he was probably right. Alex would go to any length to fuck with me.

"So Johnny," Steve started after a few moments had passed. "Are you officially done with Naomi? I know you dumped her a while ago, but you didn't take her back or anything stupid like that, right?" I shook my head, telling Steve that I didn't get back with Naomi.

"No, we're done," I said. "All that wedding shit was too much for me. I couldn't handle her right now. I've got to devote so much time to the show and I can't commit to a chick like her. So, I had to end the relationship. She came over this morning, but I told her I wasn't going to take her back. Had to break it to her easy, you know?" I'm not going to lie; I felt pretty proud while I was telling the guys about how I broke up with Naomi. They always used to tell me I needed to dump her, but they never thought I would actually do it. But now that I did dump her, I couldn't help but brag a little. But the guys were still unsure about my relationship status with Naomi.

"Did you take the ring back?" Bam asked, folding his arms over his chest. I stared at him blankly. He shook his head before repeating the question. "You heard me Johnny," Bam added. "Did you or did you not take the ring back?"

"Um, no," I said. "I mean, she was wearing it when she came over this morning. I told her to take it off, but I didn't tell her to give it back." Bam shook his head as if he knew I was going to say that.

"Did you call your folks and them that you broke up with her?" Bam asked.

"No," I said. "I was going to get around to it. They never liked Naomi, anyways—"

"You're going to take her back," Bam said. "She's wearing the engagement ring. Your parents think you're still together. Naomi's probably just waiting by her phone for you to call her and beg for her to take you back." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not taking her back," I mused.

"Well in that case," Steve said, "we need to get you laid. Not by Alex and not by Naomi. Just some completely random hot chick." I sighed. I think Steve was still a little jealous that I had gotten so close with Alex, but I didn't say anything.

"Every time I go out with you guys something bad happens," I said. "And I am perfectly capable of getting laid on my own. I don't need your guys' help."

"Really?" Steve said. "You had a half naked chick on your bed and you couldn't score. I think even Ehren could have gotten some ass if he was in that position."

"Johnny," Bam pleaded. "When we started Jackass and you weren't with Naomi, you were so much cooler than you are now. You used to be the one who wanted to go out drinking and you were the one that was looking to get chicks. What happened to that guy?"

"He's right here," I said. "He's just a little more…cautious?"

"Bullshit, Knoxville," Bam said.

"We are just going out and grabbing a few drinks," Dunn said. "Just come out with us. If you see a lady you like, then, you know…"

"Just bring her into the bathroom and fuck her in the stall like the old Johnny would!" Steve said. I laughed. Come to think of it, I had changed a lot in the past years.

"So you coming or what?" Bam said. I sighed, grabbing my keys.

"Old Johnny's back!" shouted Chris. I shook my head. I knew tonight was going to be bad. I could only hope it was bad in the good way and not in the regrettable way.


	7. Girl Fight (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Seven: Girl Fight (Alex)_

"So nothing happened?" Cameron said, sitting next to me on a couch in her apartment. I just nodded. I was so sick of retelling the same story over and over again. Cam wanted to know, Steve wanted to know, Chris wanted to know—everyone wanted to know exactly what happened between Johnny and I. And I told them all the same thing: nothing happened.

"Why did you wait so long to come and talk to me, Alex? It had been a week since that whole nightclub thing happened and this is the first time we have talked about it," Cameron questioned. I just shrugged. After my drunken night with Johnny, I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't pick up the phone and I didn't leave my apartment. I got tons of calls—all from people wanting to know about what happened that night—but I ignored them all. They could all go ask Johnny because I was done talking about it. It was too complicated for them to understand. I didn't sleep with him because it would have just made things even more complicated than they already were. Johnny had to sort out his feelings for Naomi before he could take on another relationship, even if it was just a sexual one. And even though he told me he was done with his ex-fiancée, I knew it wasn't true. How can you spend that much time in a relationship with another person and then just forget about them overnight? It was impossible. Even if Johnny didn't want to admit it, he had to have had some feelings for Naomi. And if we started dating or sleeping together or whatever, we would both end up getting hurt. I didn't want to get hurt anymore. And more importantly, I didn't want Johnny to get hurt.

"I don't know, Cam," I said honestly. "I don't like talking about it. It is awkward. And I was scared that if I left my apartment there would be a swarm of paparazzi waiting for me outside my front door. I'd rather stay inside than have to face a huge crowd of paparazzi by myself again." Cameron nodded her head, saying she understood where I was coming from. But she couldn't understand. How can some relate to what I was feeling right now? My whole private life was being aired on talk shows. People were saying I was a whore and a disgrace to women. Jeff was absolutely right when he said people were vicious. And while I tried to put on a tough front, I really hated being talked about. I just wanted to yell at all the people that were talking about me on TV and in the magazines. I wanted to scream that they had no idea who I was and they had no right to talk about me. But I had to shake off all those feelings of frustration. I couldn't let them defeat me. What I told Jeff was still true—I wasn't going to change myself for anyone. I didn't care what people thought about me. I was going to be myself no matter where that landed me.

"Well, luckily no one has been talking about you on TV for the past couple of days," Cameron said, trying to comfort me. "Tara Reid got another DUI, so you and Johnny are old news." I laughed. I never thought I would be so happy that Tara Reid decided to drive under the influence. "I don't think you have to worry about the paparazzi for a little while."

"I hope. I mean, I'm still getting used to it all," I replied. "After a while, I'm sure anything people say about me will roll right off my back. Besides, there's no such thing as bad publicity, right?" Cam nodded her head, agreeing with me.

"I think it's awesome," she said. "If you weren't my friend and I saw you in a magazine or something, I would think you were so cool. I mean, you are the only girl on the cast of Jackass. How rad is that? Who gives a shit if you're nailing Johnny Knoxville?"

"Apparently everyone," I said with a sigh. "And I'm not sleeping with him." Cameron chuckled, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"I know, I know," she said. "And why is that again? Last I heard from you, you hated his guts. But then I turn on the TV and you are screwing him. And then I finally get a hold of you a week later and you say nothing happened?" I tried to think of a quick answer to her question, but I didn't have one. I just gave her a shrug and a limp smile. "He's pretty cute, Alex. If I were you I would have screwed him. Everyone is saying you did, anyways. You could have just done it and forgotten about him in the morning. Been there, done that, you know?" If she was talking about any other guy in the world, I would have completely agreed with her. But she wasn't—she was talking about Johnny.

"Things with him are…" I trailed off, trying to find the right word to help explain my relationship with him, but sadly, there wasn't a word that could successfully describe our strange bond. "Things with him are different. It's not like I just picked up some random guy from the bar and I went to his place. Johnny is my friend. He is my coworker. I couldn't just…" Cameron was giving me a funny look. She was raising an eyebrow at me as I spoke. "What?" I asked defensively.

"You like him, don't you?" she said, eyeing me. I chuckled uneasily.

"What?" I said, acting like I was taken off guard by her question. "No way! I mean, I like him as a friend. He is a cool guy and everything, but I…no way." I looked at Cameron sheepishly. There was no way she was buying this. But truthfully, I wasn't sure where I stood with Johnny. We talked after our meeting with Jeff and everything was cool, but I was still unsure of how I felt about him. He was my friend, that was for sure, but did I want something else to blossom between us? Something more intimate? Something more romantic? I couldn't believe I was actually thinking about dating Johnny. But in this past week when I was doing nothing except for sit around my apartment and stare at the walls, all I wanted was to call him and talk to him. I knew he would understand what I was going through. He would understand why I was feeling anxious about being on Jackass. And I knew he would make me feel better. But that didn't mean he couldn't be just my friend. Just because I wanted him to console me didn't mean there was anything between us, right? I had no idea.

"You are _totally_ in love with him," Cameron mocked. "You want to be Mrs. Knoxville!" She wrapped her arms around me, kissing the side of my face and making loud smooching noises. I laughed, trying to push her off of me. _"I love you, Johnny!" _she said, imitating my voice.

"Shut up, Cameron!" I laughed, pushing her away.

"Come on, Alex, I have known you long enough to know when you like someone," she replied. "I am just shocked. You said this guy was such a prick. And you said he was cocky and obnoxious. You said he was everything you hated about men! And know you want to date him—"

"I do not!" I said. "After Van, I think I could go forty years without another boyfriend in my life." Cameron just laughed. I had always hated dating. Cameron knew that about me. It was just so awkward. You had to feel obligated to dress up and go to some crappy restaurant where you would get some mediocre food. Then you had to eat while having a dull conversation. After, you had to have the cringe-worthy argument over who was going to pay. And then when it is all over, the guy assumes he is going to get lucky. I hated dates. Maybe that is why all my relationships turned out so terribly.

"Whatever you say, Al," Cameron said, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. "You know, ever since you have been doing this Jackass stuff, I started to realize how much time entertainment stations spend gossiping about celebrities. It isn't fair. I wonder how much of it is actually true." She flipped through the stations as I stared dully at the screen.

"As long as it isn't me they are talking about, then I don't care," I said. Cameron laughed, agreeing with me. As she went from channel to channel, I was happy to see that no one was discussing me. But when she landed on one channel, I saw a familiar face and told Cam to leave it on.

"Oh my God!" Cameron said, staring at the TV like I was. "Is that _Johnny? _He looks like hell!" I grimaced, watching as pictures of Johnny with the rest of the Jackass guys flashed on the screen. They weren't pictures from the night we all went out to the club together. These must have been from another Jackass outing that I didn't attend. And Johnny looked plastered. I sighed, listening to the news reporter on the screen talked about the photos.

"It has been a crazy couple of weeks for Jackass star Johnny Knoxville," said the blonde reporter. "Only weeks ago, photos of Johnny Knoxville's beautiful fiancée, Naomi Simmons, going to nightclubs with other guys without her wedding ring surfaced. Stories started pouring in from sources all over California saying they saw Naomi in quite compromising positions with other men. We all felt bad for the Jackass star after we learned of Naomi's infidelity. But before the uproar caused by the cheating scandal could die down, the Jackass crew was at it again. Johnny Knoxville was spotted outside a club in Los Angeles getting into a taxicab with his new costar, Alex Kidd. They were both obviously intoxicated, shouting profanities at the paparazzi and acting quite obnoxious." Cameron laughed, poking me as the reporter spoke.

"You're so famous," she said with a grin.

"It's not funny," I said, poking Cam back. "I wasn't even acting that obnoxious. She is a bad reporter. She is reporting lies—"

"Oh, okay," Cameron said sarcastically. "Blame the reporter because you didn't get to have drunk sex with Johnny Knoxville." I sighed making her laugh.

"Shut up, Cam," I said. I wanted to hear what the reporter had to say about Johnny. I listened as the reporter continued to speak.

"When thirty-year-old Johnny Knoxville first appeared on our radar, he barely ever caused any trouble. He had the picture perfect engagement and he was never in the tabloids. But lately, he has changed from the lovable southern boy to just another Hollywood playboy." I bit my bottom lip. This wasn't sounding too good for Johnny. "This past week the cast of Jackass got a much needed break from filming. But instead of getting some rest, the cast has been showing up at clubs all over LA and Hollywood. But Alexandra Kidd hasn't been spotted with the cast at any of these clubs." I raised an eyebrow at the television screen. Why were they going out without me? Ehren was in some of those pictures from the clubs. They invited Ehren but not me? What the hell?

"Why didn't you go out with them?" Cameron asked. "Or did you just not get invited?" I looked at her with wide eyes and shook my head, making up a quick lie. Hopefully I didn't sound as pathetic as I was feeling. I didn't want to tell Cameron the truth. I was embarrassed that me new coworkers had gone out without me.

"Oh, they kept asking me to go out with them this week, but I told them I wanted to rest a little before we started filming again," I said. Cameron eyed me suspiciously, but she didn't question me. Anyone who knew me could tell you that I am not a stay-at-home-and-rest kind of girl. I would much rather be spending a night drinking than sleeping. But Cam didn't say anything. We just stared at the television in silence as the reporter continued to talk about Johnny.

"In the past week, Johnny Knoxville has been seen taking many different girls back to his apartment. We shouldn't be surprised—most of the Jackass cast is known for their promiscuous habits with women—but Johnny Knoxville usually isn't the player on the cast." Recent pictures of Johnny with different girls in nightclubs flashed on the screen. "All I can say is that I am on edge of my seat, waiting for what these people are going to do next!" the reporter continued. "I am guessing we will be hearing more about Johnny, Alex, and Naomi very soon. And I will definitely be tuning in to watch Jackass, which is premiering on MTV at the end of this summer." The show cut to commercial, leaving me staring at the screen. My jaw dropped.

"I…I can't believe him!" I shouted. "How can he do that? Who does he think he is?" Cameron shrugged, trying to comfort me a little.

"You know from experience that most the stories they report about these shows are lies," she said. While that was true, I couldn't take any comfort in Cam's words. They had pictures of him with all those girls. They had pictures of the guys at different clubs. How could they be lying when they had photos? I just shook my head.

"They had pictures," I said angrily. "I should have known he was going to go and pull something like this all along. But he told me he wasn't like that. He told me about his life and his family. I thought he was real. But he is just like everyone else in this town." I didn't know why I cared that Johnny was sleeping around. I mean, it wasn't like he was in a relationship. He could do whatever he wanted to. But it still hurt me to see him in those clubs. I thought we were friends, but there he was, going out without telling me, sleeping around with any girl he could get. I was starting to hate all men.

"You had your chance," Cam said, snickering. "Should of hooked him while you were in his bed. Because jealousy doesn't look good on you." I exhaled, trying to stay calm.

"I'm not jealous. It's just…" I trialed off, trying to think up an acceptable lie. "Our boss told us not to go out. We were supposed to wait until all the heat from our last run in with the paparazzi died down. And they all went out, stirring up more drama. That means more trouble for all of us." Cameron nodded, but I doubted she believed me. But in the moment, I didn't care. I had to go. I had to talk to Johnny and ask what the hell was going through his head. "I've got to go," I told Cam. "I've got a meeting with MTV in a half an hour."

"It's seven in the morning," Cameron protested. "They schedule you to go into the office that early in the morning?" I just shrugged. Cam and I weren't really morning people. She was sleeping when I came over to her place thirty minutes ago.

"It's a job," I said with a sigh, Cam just nodded, saying goodbye. I couldn't believe that I had lied to Cameron again. I never lied to her in the past. But now I made up any excuse not to tell her the truth about how I was feeling. I was a sorry excuse for a best friend.

I took a public bus out of East LA to get to Johnny's apartment building. He lived in a nice part of town. It was where the beautiful people lived. Girls with bleached hair, perfect bodies, and small bikinis roamed the streets while men in designer suits followed close behind. The buildings were tall and graffiti-free and there was no litter on the sidewalks. When I got off the bus in front of Johnny's building I felt like I didn't belong in that part of town. But I just shook off those feelings and walked up the stairs to his apartment. When I got to the door of his place, I knocked hard, knowing that he was probably asleep. But after a few minutes passed, Johnny drudgingly opened the door.

"Oh," he said, rubbing his eyes. He seemed surprised to see me, but he was probably too hung over to care that much. "Alex…what are you doing here? It is like…seven in the morning." I just looked at him as he stood there in his boxers. His hair was messy and he had bags under his eyes, not to mention he had hickeys on his neck.

"Is this a bad time?" I snarled. "You have company, right?" He looked at me with defeated eyes. He knew that I heard about all the partying he was doing this week. "I saw you and all your girlfriends on the morning news. It looked like the whole cast was having one hell of a time." I could see him trying to think up something to say, but he had nothing. He just sighed.

"Come in, Alex," he finally spoke.

"What about your friend?" I asked.

"She's asleep," he replied. I walked into his apartment, not knowing what to say. I shouldn't be angry at him. I shouldn't scold him. He was just having fun. I would be doing the same thing if I was in his shoes. But it wasn't fair. When he brought me back to his place, I didn't do a thing with him. I thought he was still straightening out his feelings about Naomi. But apparently he wasn't the emotional wreck I thought he was. He was just like any other player in this town.

"Why were you guys going out to the clubs so much?" I said, turning to Johnny. I didn't bother to sit down. I didn't want to take a seat. I just wanted to yell and scream and try to get him to understand what I was feeling. "Didn't Jeff say not to? And why didn't anyone tell me? Did you not want me there? Am I like the laughing stock of the cast just because the tabloids are saying I'm a whore? Or did you just want to go out and get laid without me disapproving? Because I—"

"Stop, Alex," Johnny said, rubbing his head. "I have to tell you something."

"No," I said, regretting giving him the third degree. "I'm sorry. I just—I've been really confused lately. I have just been worrying about the show and the paparazzi. And I have been thinking about what happened between us—"

"I really need to tell you, Al—" Johnny tried to cut in.

"I just keep think about you and me and what I am feeling," I continued, wanting to tell him everything that was going on in my head. I was convinced that he was feeling the same way I was. He always understood me before. When we were together, everything seemed so natural and normal. It felt right. But I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Alex, I had a lot of feelings for you since the first day I meant you," he whispered. "I thought you hated me, but there was something about you that was carefree and wild and…I liked it." I saw grief in his eyes. I knew this conversation wasn't heading in the direction I wanted it to. "But I didn't know you felt the same way. And I couldn't wait for you forever, Alex." Just as he spoke, I heard a familiar, nasally voice come from Johnny's bedroom. My heart dropped into my stomach. I was such an idiot. There I was trying to tell Johnny that I had feelings for him and she was in his bed.

_Naomi._

"Johnny," Naomi said, walking out of his bedroom, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt. I could feel blood rushing to my face. I was so stupid. I was embarrassed, angry, and disgusted all at the same time. I just wanted to leave. Naomi was smirking at me, probably knowing how upset I was after seeing her standing in the doorway of Johnny's bedroom. "Oh, Alice, what are you doing here so early in the morning?" I could have snatched that smug look right off her face.

"It's _Alex_," I hissed. _"Alexandra Kidd_."

"Whatever. Johnny's kind of busy right now," she said, giggling. "Maybe you can come back later." I looked at Johnny, feeling hurt. How could he go back to that...that bitch? She cheated on him. She treated him like shit. He told me that I didn't understand how he felt about Naomi. I guess he was right. I would never understand what made him keep going back to that worthless piece of trash.

"Alex, this isn't what it looks like," he started. That was the same thing Van told me when I caught him in bed with another girl. Different guy, same bullshit excuses. "I just thought you didn't want to be in a relationship, Al," he whispered, stepping closer to me. "I thought we—" I cut him off, realizing that this was the wrong time to be doing this. There was never going to be a right time to tell Johnny how I felt about him. Until he was completely done with Naomi, there was no point in trying to make something work between us. And why would Johnny waste his time with me when he had a gorgeous woman like Naomi waiting for him? And why would I want to waste my time with him? I headed for the door.

"No, don't apologize," I said. "You're right Johnny. I shouldn't have even come over."

"But we—" he started.

"There is no _we _anymore, Johnny," I snarled before I left.

"Alexa, or whatever," Naomi added before I left. "Just remember, guys might sleep with trashy girls, but they don't marry them." She flashed me her wedding ring. There were about a million insults I could have thrown at her. I could have called her a bitch or a slut or a gold digger, but I didn't. I just stared at her and laughed.

"You two are perfect for each other," I said. I could see the hurt in Johnny's eyes, but he didn't come after me. I just left, jumping on the first bus that came by. I just went back to my apartment, dreading going back to work the next day. I had made a total idiot out of myself. Just thinking about it made me cringe. I went in there hoping Johnny had the same confused feelings for me that I had for him. But no—he had Naomi. I couldn't stand her. She didn't care about Johnny—that was obvious. And was he so stupid that he couldn't see that? Were guys that easily distracted by a pretty face?

I didn't want to have to go back to work with Johnny, but luckily, when filming for Jackass resumed the next day, it went over pretty smoothly. Things were still awkward between Johnny and me, so I just avoided him at all costs. The other guys weren't acting weird around me though. It was almost like nothing happened. And I have to admit that waking up early and filming made me feel ten times better. Being with a bunch of my friends, laughing, and having fun was exactly what I needed after all the drama I had been involved with.

As the workday came to an end, Missy and Laura showed up on set. Laura had to drop off some documents for Jeff and Missy just tagged along. When the girls showed up, Jeff said we could have the rest of the day off. The guys started planning where they wanted to go for drinks as Missy walked over to greet me. I smiled at the dark haired girl, but she pulled me into a tight hug.

"Hey, sweetie!" she said. "How are you?" I chuckled. Missy was such a people person.

"Great now that work is over," I said as she released me from her grip. She laughed briefly at my comment as Laura walked over to us.

"Hey, Alex," Laura said. "Haven't seen you since shooting wrapped last week."

"It was a pretty crazy week," I said. "I decided to just stay home during our break." Missy and Laura looked at each other, exchanging looks. "I take it you heard about what happened with Johnny and me?" I said, grimacing. Missy nodded slowly. I wasn't surprised. Everyone on the cast new about my drunken night with Knoxville, but no one brought it up at work today. Johnny said he set the records straight about what happened and what didn't happen. I was just hoping no one found out about when I went over to Johnny's house yesterday morning. That was beyond embarrassing for me. I hoped Johnny would keep his mouth shut about it.

"I just want to say that we are here for you, sweetie," Missy said. "I have been hanging around these Jackass guys long enough to know they are just a bunch of jerks." I just smiled at Missy's concern.

"It's no big deal, Missy," I said. "Really. I just drank a little too much. That's all."

"I just hope this means Johnny is done with that Naomi girl," Laura said. "She was bad news from the start. She was such a gold digger. She didn't care about him at all." I laughed, shaking my head. I had no idea if he was still with her. I assumed they were together again from the way I saw her in his apartment yesterday morning, but maybe it was just a one night thing. Either way, I didn't care. He could do whatever he wanted to do.

"She called me stupid at the last Jackass meeting!" Missy demanded. "I'm not dumb! I'm mean, I'm not, like, super smart or anything, but either is she. If anything, she is the stupid one. She is, like, totally the mayor of dumb town!" I laughed at Missy's stab at an insult. She was too sugary to come up with anything mean to say.

Both the girls looked at me, waiting for me to say something nasty about Naomi, but I honestly had nothing to say about her. She was enough of a train wreck; I didn't need to insult her. I just tried to muster something up, but I had nothing.

"Do you think there still together, Alex?" Laura said, breaking the silence. "You and Johnny are pretty close, aren't you? He's got to tell you about stuff like that, right?" I shrugged, but the two girls just kept staring at me. Talking to women was so much different than taking to men. If I was talking to guys, I could have just shrugged off their questions, but when women know you've got some gossip, they aren't going to stop prodding until you tell something.

"Um…" I started. They waited for me to speak. I wasn't going to tell them I saw Naomi half-naked at Johnny's house—I didn't feel right airing Johnny's dirty laundry like that—but I guess I could tell them my honest opinion. "I think they are back together." Laura rolled her eyes and Missy sighed dramatically. "So if Naomi is the mayor of dumb town, Johnny must be the president, right?" I said, mocking Missy. Laura chuckled.

"He is just…a man," Laura said. "No other way to put it. Naomi is pretty and she knows he is going to keep going back to her no matter what she does. I just thought he was smarter than that." Missy nodded vigorously.

"Totally," she said. "And I would have bet money that he was going to leave Naomi for you. I was at the first meeting when you two were fighting. And he was eyeing you hard. And it wasn't because he didn't like you, I can tell you that." I just shrugged.

"Really?" Laura said. "I thought Alex was going to kill him. But it made sense that you two were fighting. They say when two people are so much alike, they fight." I gave her a confused look. "You and Johnny are a lot alike!" she said after seeing my reaction to her statement. "You have the same sense of humor, you both like to hurt yourselves to entertain others, and you both love a good pair of converse." She pointed at my sneakers and I laughed.

"You two would be so cute together," Missy said. "Totally adorable. He is like the boy next door and you're a little skater girl. You would be perfect for him. He needs a chick that is going to put him in his place. Do I hear wedding bells ringing?" I gave her an exasperated look and she chuckled.

"I'm more trouble than I'm worth," I said. "I think Johnny knows that. Besides, he has got Naomi." Missy and Laura exchanged looks and shrugged. That is when Ryan walked over and put his arm over my shoulder.

"Hey, you coming out tonight?" he said to me. I sighed, thinking about it. It didn't seem like a good idea after all the shit that was going on between Knoxville and me. So I opted out. But before I spoke, I got an awesome idea.

"Nope, I'm busy tonight," I said. Ryan narrowed his eyebrows. "Yup," I continued. "I am going out with Laura and Missy. We are having girl's night tonight." Missy clapped excitedly as I proposed the idea and Laura just smiled.

"Girl's night?" Ryan said, nodding his head. "Well, have fun. And if any of you get really wasted and start making out with other chicks, make sure to take lots of pictures." I groaned, pushing him off me. He just laughed. "See you tomorrow!" he shouted before walking off with the other guys.

"This is so cool!" Missy shouted. "We have never had girl's night before! This is going to be so much fun!" She clapped again, jumping up and down in her heels. But suddenly she looked down at herself, shocked for some reason. "Oh my God!" she shouted. "I can't go out like this. I need to change!" She looked gorgeous. She was wearing more makeup then I have ever worn in my entire life and she was wearing a lacey dress. Compared to my usual t-shirt and jeans, she looked like a movie star. I laughed at Missy, shaking my head.

"Okay," I said. "How about we all meet at my place at ten o'clock tonight?"

"I don't know you guys," Laura said. "I don't really go out that much. Or stay up that late. Actually, I don't even drink that much. Maybe I should sit this one out." I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest. I wasn't going to let Mrs. Tremaine skip our outing.

"No way, Laura," I said. "We're getting you shitfaced whether I have to pour the booze down your throat or not." Missy laughed, but I wasn't joking. When Johnny didn't want to go out I convinced him to. I could persuade Laura to come out, too.

"I don't know if I've ever been...shitfaced," Laura said slowly. I just smiled. Jeff was going to hate me after tonight. Well, Laura deserved to cut loose for once in her life. And so did I. I gave the girls my address and we all parted ways. Tonight, I was going to have some real fun.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"Ten o'clock?" Cameron said on the other line of the phone. I had just told her about how I was going out to some club with a couple friends and I was asking if she wanted to come. She said she would go with us. "It's been a while since I went to the clubs," she said. "This should be fun."

"I hope," I said. "Every time I go out with the guys something bad happens. Maybe things will turn out better when I go out with the girls." I never really went anywhere with a group of girls. Ever. I always went out with a group of guys. Partying with guys was a lot different than partying out with girls. Girls want to get dressed up and dance around. Guys wanted to get drunk and get laid. For obvious reasons, I usually went out with guys.

"What club are we going to?" Cameron asked eagerly.

"Element Nightclub," I answered. "Missy picked it out. Said she used to go there with her ex-boyfriend or something." Cam chuckled on the other line.

"I bet it is going to be one of those really classy places. Where the drinks are like, twenty dollars apiece and they have bathroom attendants and shit," she said. Cameron and I usually stuck to rundown bars when we went out, so going to a big club was going to be a new experience for Cam.

"Well, we are just going to have to show these Hollywood bitches how real girls party," I snickered. Cameron laughed.

"Okay, okay," she said. "I'll be over at your place in five." I looked at the clock. It was already 9:45. Missy and Laura were going to be over any minute. It didn't matter though—it wasn't like I had to go get ready or something. I never got dressed up when I went to a club or a bar. But then again, I never got dressed up for anything.

After a couple of minutes, Cameron showed up at my door with a huge smile in her face. She was definitely ready to party. We chatted while we waited for Missy and Laura to show up. Cameron had some questions about them for me. "So Missy and Laura…are they the typical LA trash I am guessing they are?" I laughed. I didn't want to lie to Cam, but I didn't want to be to judgmental of the girls. So I summed them the best I could.

"They're really sweet," I said. Cameron stuck her tongue out, making scowling at me. "Laura is really…prudish. I'm hoping she has some fun tonight because she needs it. And Missy is…" I tried to think up something nice to say about the girl, "She is really nice once you get to know her. She looks like your typical LA groupie, but I swear she is cooler than you'd think." Cameron laughed. Needless to say, Missy and Laura weren't girls we would typically be going out with.

At about 10:15, Laura and Missy showed up at my apartment. They were knocking at my door vigorously, so I quickly opened it, wondering what was going on. They practically ran into my apartment, making sure they closed the door behind them. Cameron and I exchanged looks as the frightened girls dashed into my apartment.

"For the love of God, Alex!" Laura said, trying to catch her breath. "How do you live in this neighborhood? It is so scary! There was some man running after Missy and me, asking if we wanted to buy any ganja. I don't even know what ganja is!" Cameron and I laughed. East LA really wasn't a place for girls like Missy and Laura.

"Oh, that's just Ricardo," I said with a smile. "He's pretty much harmless. He's like any other traveling salesman." I was trying to tell them that Ricardo was a creep that walked around East LA trying to sell dope in the nicest way possible. "He is kind of like the Avon lady, except he doesn't sell makeup." Cameron laughed at my explanation. I realized I hadn't introduced the girls to each other, but Cam did the introductions herself. She walked up to Laura and Missy, extending her hand to each of them.

"Hey, I'm Cameron," she said kindly. "I'm one of Alex's friends." Missy introduced herself as Bam Margera's girlfriend and Laura introduced herself as Jeff Tremaine's wife. I was wondered what was going through Cam's mind. Laura looked like a housewife from the 1950's with her floral dress, pearl necklace, and sensible shoes. Missy looked like she was ready for a Maxim photo shoot with her tight, impossibly short, black dress and heels. She was wearing a ridiculous amount of makeup. It seemed unnecessary for such a pretty girl to wear so many layers of gunk on her face.

"Well," I started, "now that introductions are out of the way, how about we get going—"

"Not just yet," Missy said, exposing some huge bags she had smuggled into my apartment. "I mean, the clubs don't get fun until midnight anyways." I furrowed my eyebrows, not sure why we couldn't just get going.

"Alex, I grilled Bam for hours after we got off set," Missy continued. "And he told me Johnny isn't with Naomi again. They are still broken up." I sighed, shaking my head. I didn't care if they were together or not. I just wanted to go out and get a few drinks. This was supposed to be a Knoxville-free night. "And you are never going to hook a man looking like…_that. _No offense." I understood what Missy was hinting at, but I didn't care. I just wanted to go out.

"Listen to her, Alex," Laura said. "If you want to get noticed by a guy, you're going to have to put a little effort into it. It is a war out there. And girls are vicious. If you want Johnny, you are going to have to pry him from Naomi's cold, dead hands."

"I don't want Johnny!" I demanded. "I think he is an idiot for wasting so much of his time on Naomi and honestly, I hope he goes back to her so she can break his heart again. That is exactly what that moron deserves." I wasn't trying to win Johnny back, if I ever had him in the first place. I just wanted everyone to forget about this drama with Johnny.

"Well, that's even better," Missy said. "Make Knoxville regret not asking you out in the first place. You don't have to want him, just make him want you. Be a tease! Now sit down, Alex. We are giving you a makeover."

"No way!" I said, backing away from Missy as she pulled a huge makeup kit out of her bag. "You are not giving me a makeover. No way in hell!" Cameron stepped closer to my side. I thought that my alleged best friend was going to help me out. She knew how low maintenance I was and she knew how much I hated getting dressed up for anything. But no, she wasn't taking my side. Instead, she was siding with the Barbie twins.

"I'll hold Alex down while you do her makeup!" Cam shouted, grabbing my sides. I sighed as the girls giggled, grabbing more supplies out of their bags. I gave Cameron the death stare as she pushed me down into a chair.

"Fine, fine!" I shouted, shaking Cam off of me. "You guys have thirty minutes. Then I am leaving and getting some booze, with or without you." Laura and Missy high fived and I gave Cameron another irritated glance. Cam laughed, elbowing me in the ribs.

"This is going to be hilarious," Cam whispered into my ear. "You are going to look like a cross between a Stepford wife and a porn star after those two are done with you," she added, pointing out Missy and Laura's obviously different styles.

"I'll get you back for this, Cam," I said. Cameron just kept laughing as Missy pulled two dresses out of one of her bags. My jaw dropped, looking at the dressed. They were so short and lacey and slutty. I had a feeling I was going to be looking like a street walker by the end of their makeover.

"Alex, do you like leopard print or zebra print?" Missy asked. Cameron snickered after seeing the obvious horror in my eyes.

"Just…no," I said, staring at the short dresses. "No animal print." Missy sighed, shoving the dresses back in her bag forcefully. I knew Missy and Laura were trying to do something nice for me, but there was no way I was leaving the house in either of those dresses.

"Well, I am glad I brought more options," she said patiently.

"Sit still," Laura ordered, hovering over me with a bright red tube of lipstick. "I need to do your makeup." I grimaced, tensing up as Laura took my face in her hands. She pushed my chin up, positioning me so I was looking straight up at her. There was no mirror in sight, so I had no idea what she was doing to my face.

"Don't make me look like a hooker, okay?" I pleaded. "Don't go too crazy with the whore paint." Laura just laughed, getting to work on my face. She was poking at my eyes and my lips for what seemed like hours while Cameron chuckled hysterically, watching it all happen. "Are you almost done?" I asked every five minutes, but Laura just ignored me and continued to cover my face in makeup.

"I think this dress is perfect!" Missy said, pulling another dress out of her bag. I couldn't see the dress because Laura told me I wasn't allowed to move while she was putting mascara on my eyelashes. "This dress has Alexandra Kidd written all over it! It is sexy and a little edgy...I should become your personal stylist, Alex!" I just groaned, positive that the dress had slutty Missy Rothstein written all over it. "Now I just need to pick out some accessories…"

"Missy, I think we have a problem," Laura said. Missy came over, seeing what was going on. "It looks like Alex hasn't shaved her legs in nine years," Laura continued, lifting up the leg of my jeans.

"That's not true!" I shouted, while Cameron was bent-over laughing. "It is just…shaving hurts!"

"That's okay," Missy said. "I brought my waxing kit!" I groaned. "We should be filming this shit for Jackass," Missy added. "You could call the skit Turning Alex Back into a Girl." I braced myself as Missy came at me with her waxing kit. This was not going to be fun…

This "makeover" seemed to last forever, especially the leg-waxing portion, but by 11:00 they had me all made up. They managed to get me into one of Missy's dressed, which was about five inches too short. I felt insecure and I assumed that I looked like a gangly idiot. But before I could look at myself, Missy and Laura had to do their final inspections.

"I think you look perfect! Knoxville isn't going to know what hit him after he sees you!" Missy exclaimed. "Now just put on some stilettos and you'll be done."

"I can't," I sighed. "I mean, I can't walk in heels. And I'm not starting tonight." Missy's jaw dropped. "It's not that big of a deal—" I started, but Missy wasn't having it.

"But I only brought heels!" she said, holding up the two pairs of heels she brought with her. I just shrugged, not knowing what to tell her.

"I would be 6'5" if I wore those. And there is no way I am going to fit into your size 6 shoes, Missy," I said, shaking my head. I just slid on my black converse sneakers, smiling at Missy, who looked disgusted.

"All this hard work…and you wear those shoes…" she said. I just laughed, looking at myself in the mirror. And I looked exactly how I expected myself to look: gangly and stupid. I just sighed. Laura went crazy with the makeup, just like I knew she would. It was everywhere. Laura must have thought I was really ugly if she thought I needed that much makeup to look all right. And don't even get me started on the dress Missy put me in. It was so short that I could barely move without having a serious wardrobe malfunction. But I wouldn't have been able to move even if I wanted to. The black, satin dress hugged my body so tightly that I could barely walk, let alone dance at a nightclub.

"What are we going to do with her hair?" I heard Missy say to Laura in a quiet voice.

"I don't think there is anything we can do…" she replied. I chuckled, looking at my wild, curly hair in the mirror. It was pretty much a knotted mess. It would have taken Missy and Laura another hour just to get a brush through my hair. I was glad they had decided against messing with my hair, though. I could only imagine what they would have done with it if they more time. I took a deep breath while thinking about it, putting on a pair of dark sunglasses, trying to cover up the horrendous smoky eye Laura had given me.

"So can we get out of here?" I pleaded.

"Let's go!" Missy shouted. "I just need to make a quick call…" She pulled out her cell phone, quickly dialing a number. We all listened as Missy spoke."Hello? Yes, I have a tip. Alexandra Kidd is going to be at Element Nightclub any minute now…" My eyes grew wide. Why was Missy tipping off the paparazzi? My first instinct was to snatch her phone out of her hands, but she quickly ended her phone conversation, putting her cell back in her handbag.

"What the hell, Missy?" I said. "Why did you just do that? There are going to be paparazzi swarming Element now! We can't go there!" Missy just smiled, chuckling lightly.

"Sweetie, I didn't just spend an hour getting you dressed up just for fun," she said. "The paparazzi have to be there! They are going to see you going into the club, looking super sexy. Then you will be in all the magazines and everyone will be talking about how good you look and then Knoxville will see it and Naomi will be the last thing on this mind." I just sighed.

"Do you usually tip off the paparazzi to get your face in magazines?" I said, looking down at myself.

"All the time," Missy replied. "We all do it. How do you think the paparazzi found out about Naomi clubbing with other guys in Huntington Beach?" I looked at her with wide eyes. "Naomi tipped them off." That made no sense. Why would she want the paparazzi to see her cheating on her fiancé?

"I told you, Alex," Laura said. "That girl doesn't care about Johnny. She just wants fame."

"Too bad she is famous for being a whore," Cameron laughed. I couldn't believe Naomi would sabotage her own relationship just to get her face on the cover of a few gossip magazines. She knew that it would hurt Johnny when he found out she was cheating on him, but she didn't care. She just wanted to be famous. And she didn't care who got hurt in the process.

"Well, come on!" Missy said, grabbing my hand and yanking me towards the door. "We don't want to leave the paparazzi waiting."

We all got into Laura's car and she drove us to Element Nightclub. Just like The Twisted Martini, the place was crowded. But as we pulled up to the club, I could see the flashing of cameras. "Remember," Missy said into my ear before we got out of the car. "Confidence. You look good. And if you know it, then there is no stopping you, girl!"

"Confidence?" Cameron said, putting her hands on my shoulders. "That is Alex's middle name." I just took a deep breath, getting out of the car. Cameron was right. I was always confident. But being in this microscopic dress, I felt exposed and very unconfident. But it was too late to be having second thoughts—I was going to have to face the paparazzi whether I liked it or not. Better just grin and bear it.

As I got out of the car, I immediately felt overwhelmed by the flashing cameras and the shouting paparazzi. I froze up. I wasn't used to large groups of people shouting my name, asking ridiculous questions, and demanding photos. I have to say, it was a lot easier to be confident when I was wasted. I stood like a statue in the middle of a swarm of paparazzi, unsure of what to do. Cameron helped me make up my mind, gently pushing my forward. "Do something!" she laughed. So I lifted my head up, facing the paparazzi head on.

"Alex! Alex! Are you dating Johnny Knoxville?" screamed one of the paparazzi. I smiled.

"No," I replied coolly. "I'm single and having fun." I posed for some pictures with Cameron, Laura, and Missy as the paparazzi continued to shout questions at me.

"Alex, you were under fire for going home with Johnny after a night of clubbing," yelled another photographer. "How are you handling all of the buzz?"

"People can talk as much shit as they want," I answered. "I think it's funny." I posed for a few more pictures with the girls before heading into the club.

"Alex! I love the dress and converse look!" shouted another paparazzo. I laughed, smiling at him and heading over to the entrance of the club. I was glad at least one person was a fan of my unconventional style. The crowd of people waiting to get into the nightclub parted as I walked to the entrance of the club. When we got to the front door, the bouncer that was guarding it let us right through. He probably had no idea who any of us were, but the massive group of paparazzi that were trying to get photos of us probably gave him a hint that he should just let us into the club. He just removed a rope that was keeping guests from entering the club and let us through. I took a deep breath. This is what being famous was like.

"This is insane!" Cameron shouted once we were inside the crowded club. "You're a fucking celebrity, Alex!"

"I wouldn't go that far," I said. "I got wrapped up in a scandal with an actual celebrity. I'm just hanging onto Johnny's coattail right now." Laura and Missy laughed. "But fuck being famous. We need to get some drinks." Missy and Cameron cheered as we neared the bar and ordered a round of shots. We were quickly served, so we rose our shot glasses, toasting joyously.

"Here's to being single, seeing double, and sleeping triple!" I shouted as we threw back our shots. Well, all of us except for Laura, who was eyeing her glass suspiciously as if someone had poisoned it when she wasn't looking.

"I don't know you guys," she said cautiously. "And besides, Missy and I aren't even single."

"Monogamy is overrated," I said. Missy nodded in agreement. Naomi wasn't the only girl who could cheat on a Jackass guy. If Laura wanted to cheat on Jeff, I would tell her to go for it. Everyone seemed to be cheating on everyone these days. Naomi was cheating on Johnny, Bam was cheating on Missy, and Van was cheating on me. Why would the bond of marriage change anything?

"Just drink, Laura!" Missy shouted. Laura took a deep breath before drinking her shot. We cheered before ordering another round.

That is how the rest of our night went. We drank, we danced, and there was no drama. There was no way that the paparazzi were getting into Element—bouncers would make sure they didn't get in—so we didn't have anything to worry about. It had been a while since I went out with a group of girls and I found it to be more fun than I expected it to be. Cameron was always fun to party with, but Laura and Missy were fun, too. The biggest surprise of the night was how wild Laura got. It was funny watching the little housewife taking shots while wearing her ballet flats and pearl necklace, but I was glad that she was letting loose. Every girl should let off some steam sometime, especially if that girl is married to any of the Jackass boys.

That being said, we might have let Laura get a little too wild. It was funny at first and I thought she knew her limits, but apparently she didn't. After a couple of hours of drinking and dancing, Laura was drunker than all of us. We were all on the dance floor when I saw Laura and knew something was wrong. Her face was flushed and she looked sweaty.

"Laura!" I shouted over the booming music in the club. "Are you okay?" She looked up at me with foggy eyes. Something was definitely up with her.

"I think I'm…I think I'm gonna be—" she started, but she didn't finish her statement. She just leaned over, hurling all over my sneakers. _Awesome…_

"Come on, Laura," I said, putting my arm around the intoxicated housewife, grabbing Missy and Cam as I left the dance floor. I rushed to get Laura into the bathroom before she started puking again. Thank God, I got Laura into one of the bathroom stalls before she started hurling again. She fell to her knees and started vomiting into the toilet. Missy stood behind her, holding her friend's hair back while she puked. I sighed, looking down at my soiled sneakers. Cameron walked up beside me, chuckling, as I slid off my shoes.

"That's sick," Cam said as I tried to wash some of the puke off my shoe in a sink.

"It happens," I replied. "I'm pretty sure I've puked on you while I was wasted before."

"When we were like, fourteen," Cameron laughed. "Nothing more pathetic than a chick who can't hold her liquor." As I dried off my sneaker with a paper towel, one of the bathroom stalls opened. But it wasn't the stall Missy and Laura were in. My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw Naomi walk out of a stall, a sour look on her face.

Cameron and I quickly exchanged looks. I had the worst luck in the world. Naomi could have gone to any club in the city, but she had to go to Element. And she had to be in the bathroom at the same exact time as we were. I didn't know what to say or what to do. I wasn't sure if I should just ignore her or if I should say something. I probably wouldn't have said a word if Naomi didn't say anything to me. I wanted to have a drama free night. But girls like Naomi thrived on drama. So of course, she had start talking shit.

"Standing in a public bathroom with no shoes on…how classy," she sneered, washing her hands in the sink next to me. "I didn't know they let trash like you in this club." Cameron's jaw dropped, not used to girls acting blatantly rude for no apparent reason. I narrowed my eyebrows, looking at Naomi.

"Trash like me?" I said. "Tell me, Naomi, how many dicks did you have to suck to get in here?" Cameron snickered, just watching as this whole fight played out.

"Don't be sour because Johnny didn't want you, Alex," Naomi said, turning to face me. "No one likes a jealous bitch. But tell me, how did my sloppy seconds taste?" I laughed cynically, stepping closer to her. Was she really trying to start a fight with me? Because she was going to be really sorry in a couple of minutes.

"Delicious," I spat, eyeing her.

"You whore," she replied coldly. "Do you get some kind of thrill by sleeping with a guy who is in a committed relationship?" _Committed relationship?_ I didn't know much about relationships, but I knew _committed _would be the last word I used to describe the relationship Naomi and Johnny had.

"I didn't fuck him, Naomi," I said, taking another step closer to her so we were only inches apart. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you. We went back to his place and I told him no. I'm not going to sleep my way to the top like you're trying to." Naomi looked at me with disgust in her eyes, but she didn't speak, so I continued. "But don't get me wrong, he begged to have me." Okay, maybe I was exaggerating—_err, lying_—but it didn't really matter. I was just trying to piss Naomi off. "Johnny said he was sick of missionary."

"Really?" Naomi said, rolling her neck as she spoke. "Because Johnny didn't have any complaints last night."

"Why would he complain? He's got you—a whore who will fuck him whenever he wants," I said. "And guess what Naomi? He screwed you last night and he _still _doesn't want to marry you. There of tons of girls in LA, Naomi. You're nothing but another skank."

"Screw you, bitch!" Naomi shouted. I just laughed in her face.

"Screw you?" I questioned. "Is that the best you've got? I expected more from someone like you." I looked her up and down, observing her tight dress and six inch heels. The huge ring on her finger caught my eye. "You're still wearing your engagement ring? How pathetic. Get some dignity, Naomi. Stop sleeping with him. He is never going to want you."

"_I _should get some dignity?" Naomi laughed. "You need to take your own advice. Do you honestly think that Johnny brought you back to his place because he thinks you're a catch? Hell no. He probably gets a thrill from getting a girl in his bed that is a decade younger than him." I stood there, completely silent. "You know, you are so fake, Alex. You run around with a bunch of boys, trying to prove how tough you are. And now what is this?" she continued, pointing to my dress. "The tomboy act didn't get you enough attention, so you're going to dress like a girl again? Please, Alex. If anyone here is pathetic, it is you. Now please, get out of my way, I am meeting some friends in the club." Naomi put her hands on my chest, pushing me aside. She made a real mistake when she laid her hands on me.

"Do you really want to fight, Naomi?" I said, pushing her back. I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. And believe me, she should of been scared. "Because if you want to fight, I will fight. And I don't pull hair like you chicks from California. I throw punches." I wasn't going to play with this girl anymore. If Naomi kept pushing me, she was going to get her ass kicked.

"Are you threatening me?" Naomi said.

"No, I'm warning you," I spat. "Keep pushing me. See what happens." I looked down at her. Her back was pressed against the wall and if she kept talking, she was going to get decked. I almost wanted her to give me an excuse to hit her. "Do something," I prodded. "Give me a reason to—"

"Alex!" Missy shouted, pulling Laura out of a bathroom stall. She spotted Naomi and me fighting and she was trying to stop us before things turned physical. "Is that Naomi? Don't you lay a hand on her, Alex! You are better than that!"

"No I'm not," I spat, my face inches away from Naomi's. She was scared. I could tell she was. I chuckled, stepping away from her. If I wanted to stay out of the tabloids, giving the Naomi a black eye probably wasn't a good idea. Especially considering Naomi had a strange love for the tabloids. She would probably sell the story before the sun came up.

"You had a whore's night out?" Naomi said, regaining her confidence after she realized I wasn't going to hit her. "Aw, how cute. Missy the idiot, Alex the bitch, and Jeff's slave all go out to a nightclub." She turned to Cameron. "And which Jackass are you screwing, honey? I'm guessing Steve because he has the lowest standards." I was enraged by the way Naomi just spoke to my best friend.

"Get the fuck out of my face," Cam said, holding her own, "because I won't feel bad about punching your face in." I saw a familiar, fearful look return to Naomi's eye as she backed away from Cameron.

"Well, we were just leaving," Missy said, trying to avoid a fight at all costs. "I think Laura is all…partied out." I looked at Laura, who was drunkenly stumbling around, holding onto Missy for support. Naomi just looked at Laura and laughed, trying to act like she wasn't afraid of us.

"Trash," Naomi mumbled under her breath before leaving.

"Keep running you mouth," I said as Naomi left. Missy looked mortified about the whole event.

"Oh my God!" Missy shouted, holding onto Laura, who was too drunk to stand up on her own. "This was supposed to be a fun night out, not a night to puke all over the place and then fight in the restroom." I shrugged. "I always knew you were scrapper…" Missy added with a laugh.

"I wish I hit her," I stated seriously. "I mean, who does she think she is calling us trash?"

"Yeah, we are classy as fuck," Cameron said sarcastically. "But who cares about her? She is obviously in need of attention or something." I just shook my head.

"You t-told that bitch, Al!" Laura said, stumbling towards me. "Now how about another r-round on m-me!" I put my arm around Laura's waist, helping her stand straight.

"We better get going," I said, pulling Laura out of the restroom, holding my sneakers in my hands. "Jeff will kill me if I bring Laura home any later." Cameron and Missy agreed it was time to go so they followed me out of the club. Luckily, there were no longer any paparazzi around so we all managed to sneak to Laura's car without any more unnecessary drama. I sighed, grabbing Laura's keys out of her purse. She was way too wasted to drive. Everyone piled into the car as I got behind the steering wheel. Laura was almost passed out, and both Missy and Cameron looked half-asleep. I just sighed, putting the keys in the ignition.

So much for a drama-free girl's night out.


	8. We Found Love (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Eight: We Found Love (Johnny)_

"Jackass editing room, hour three," I said, staring at the clock. It was a little past midnight and there I was, sitting in Jeff's office, doing absolutely nothing. Another day of filming for the show had ended, but Jeff asked me to stay later and help him edit some footage. I grudgingly agreed. Of course, I didn't think that meant I would be stuck in his office for three hours, watching Jeff sit hunched over his computer, cutting up different clips we had filmed. He didn't really need my help—he just asked me what clips I thought were funny enough to be on the show. He was the one doing all the real editing.

"Stop complaining, Knoxville," Jeff said, leaning back in his swivel char. "It's not like I'm making you work." I nodded my head. If anything, Jeff had asked me to stay at the office to keep him company. MTV was getting antsy and they wanted us to send them some footage soon. Jeff's ass was on the line and he had tons of work to do. The least I could do was help him decided what to put on the show.

I closed my eyes, yawning slowly. Every day I got up at six in the morning to be on set and I always ended up staying at work until one or two in the morning. Then I would go home and try to get some sleep, but I would end up tossing and turning in bed until four. And when I finally fell asleep, it would be time to get up for work again. So now, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I wasn't the only one struggling with this problem—the whole Jackass cast was running on close to no sleep, not just me. I guess it was just part of the life of an MTV slave.

Just as I closed my eyes, Jeff started laughing hysterically, jolting me out of my seat. Jeff was staring at his computer screen, watching some prank that we filmed earlier that day. "This bit with you and Alex is so fucking hilarious!" he said between heaves of laugher. "You guys are so funny together." I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

"Yeah, when the camera's rolling," I said. Jeff turned, looking at me. I shouldn't have spoken. Now I was going to have to explain myself. I hated having to explain my relationship with Alex. We were friends, then we weren't. We were fighting, then we were making out. When I was ready to take the next step with her, she said she didn't think I was over Naomi. When she was ready to take the next step with me, I was already moving on. It was like we were out of sync or something. I barely understood what was going on with me and Al. I had no idea how I was going to explain it to Jeff.

"What do you mean?" Jeff said, pausing the video. "You guys work great together. I thought you two were pretty good friends." I shrugged. I would love to be her friend—or something more—but just speaking to her was awkward now. Our relationship morphed dramatically over the weeks and as a result, neither of us knew where we stood. But I couldn't forget what happened between us.

"I don't think we can just be friends, Jeff," I murmured. "Things got really intense with her and I don't know if we can go back to being friendly coworkers." Jeff stared at me with a confused look on his face. I didn't want to talk about Alex any longer, but I knew Jeff was going to want to know more.

"I don't get it," Jeff said. "If you want to go out with her, then go out with her. The tabloids are already saying you two are dating, so why not prove them right? I don't think any of the guys would care. As long as you're not with Naomi, I don't think any of us would care who you were dating." I groaned. _Naomi._

"Well, that's the problem," I said. "Alex came over to my place the other day. And Naomi was…um…spending the night…" Jeff immediately groaned, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at me angrily. I knew he was going to react that way. That is why I had been avoiding telling Jeff or any of the other guys about the sticky situation I had gotten myself into with Alex and Naomi. They would have all been upset to hear that I slept with Naomi again.

"Are you serious, Johnny?" Jeff complained. "You took her back?"

"No!" I defended, shaking my head. "It was just a onetime thing. I was at home and I was drinking and then she came over…it was a mistake. And then Alex came over and she saw Naomi and she got really pissed. No—it was like she was disappointed in me. Like she thought I was such an idiot—"

"You are an idiot," Jeff replied. "If you really want to be with Alex, then maybe you shouldn't be screwing anything with legs." I grimaced. When Jeff put it that way, I did sound like an idiot. "I've seen the pictures in the tabloids, Johnny. Why are you going out with the guys and acting like an asshole? Sleeping around and getting wasted every night—that isn't you."

"I was just having some fun," I mumbled. Jeff shook his head.

"That's exactly what Laura said when she came home wasted this morning," he said. I raised an eyebrow. If I knew anything about Laura, it was that she was not a drinker. I didn't even know she liked going out and partying. But Jeff seemed shocked when I said I didn't hear about Laura's drunken stupor. "No one told you?" he asked.

"No one tells me anything anymore," I sighed. Jeff laughed.

"Okay, well listen to this," he started. "Yesterday after work, Laura told me she was going out with Alex, Missy, and some other girls. So I thought they were just going out to dinner or something, but Laura told me they were going to some huge nightclub in Hollywood. I was kind of surprised because Laura really doesn't like going out to clubs and bars, but I didn't really mind if she went out. So she leaves at about ten, and she doesn't get home until two or three in the morning!" I laughed. I could have seen Alex staying out all night drinking, but Laura? No way.

"What happened?" I asked. Usually, I would have guessed nothing happened—this was Laura we were talking about—but Alex was involved. And if Alex was involved, there was bound to be some kind of trouble.

"Well, Laura was bombed!" Jeff laughed. "Missy had to drag her into our house. I've never seen Laura that drunk. But anyways, Missy comes in, trying to recap everything that happened at the club. And guess who the girls ran into when they were at that nightclub?" I thought about it for a moment, but I didn't have any guesses.

"I have no idea," I said.

"Naomi," he replied. My jaw dropped. I didn't know rather to laugh or cry. I knew how Alex felt about Naomi. I could only imagine what happened at the club. Alex was probably drinking all night. Who knows what she might have done if Naomi triggered her? And Naomi loved drama. I was positive something bad probably happened.

"Damn," I replied, rubbing my head. "What happened?"

"They were in the bathroom because Laura was barfing all over the place, and Naomi happened to be in there too. And Missy said Naomi started talking shit and Alex started shouting at her. And then they started fighting—"

"Like, physically?" I asked. Jeff shrugged.

"Not sure," he said. "Laura was too drunk to remember any of it and Missy was a little tipsy, too. I couldn't get a clear story out of either of them. I wanted to ask Alex what happened at work today, but I decided against it. She didn't seem like she was in the mood to talk today."

"Are there any articles out about it?" I asked. I really hoped there wasn't. Jackass had enough bad publicity circulating at the moment. We didn't need tabloids selling articles saying Alex was getting into fights with my ex-fiancée.

"Not that I know of," Jeff said. I gave a sigh of relief. "There are a few pictures from the club in the magazines, but they aren't bad. Actually, they are awesome. Have you seen them?" I shook my head and Jeff got back on his computer, getting on TMZ's website. "Come look," he said, pulling up a few pictures. I got off the couch and stood behind Jeff, looking at the photos. They were of Alex and some girls. She looked different. She had a dress on and red lipstick. Her eyes were covered by a pair of black sunglasses. I had never seen Alex look so feminine.

"She looks good, right?" Jeff said. I couldn't deny it. The short black dress Alex was wearing fit her slender body perfectly. Jeff laughed, pointing at the picture. "Look at her shoes," he chuckled. I smiled, seeing the old pair of converse that she was wearing. Only Alex would be caught wearing Chuck Taylor's with a girly dress. And only Alex could pull it off with ease.

"Damn," I breathed, staring at Jeff's computer screen. "She is something else. Right when I think I understand her, she does something like this. She keeps me guessing…" Jeff laughed.

"You should get her while you still have a chance," he said, looking at the picture. "Because girls that look like _that _don't stay single for long." I sighed. He was right. Guys would be lining up to be with a chick like her. She was cool, down to earth, low maintenance, and now she was a star on an MTV show. Any guy would be lucky to date her. I couldn't believe I threw my chance away for Naomi.

"I've got to talk to her," I said. I needed to tell her how I felt about her. Not because she was dressing more femininely or because I was afraid that she might find another guy, but because I had to get all these strong feelings off my chest. Even if I never got to call her my girlfriend, or even my friend, I wanted to know that I gave it my best shot. If I really wanted something to happen between Alex and me, I was going to have to make a legitimate effort. I grimaced while thinking about it. I usually didn't have to try so hard to get girls. But I should have known that Alex wasn't going to let me get what I wanted easily. She was going to make me chase her.

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," Jeff said cynically. "Alex doesn't strike me as the type of girl that is going to swoon after you confess your undying love for her…" He laughed at his own word.

"I know," I said, taking a final look at the picture of Alex on Jeff's computer. "But I have to give it a shot." I grabbed my keys off Jeff's desk before heading for the door.

"Hey, I thought you were helping me with editing!" he shouted. I just ignored him and he sighed, knowing he was on his own for the rest of the night. "Good luck with Kidd! You're going to need all the luck you can get!" I just laughed, walking out the door.

When I got in my car, my mind was racing. I hadn't felt this lovesick over a girl since I was in high school and I wasn't sure what to do. Patience was a virtue that I never had, so I thought about going over to Alex's house right at that moment. If I knew her address, I probably would have done it too. "You're crazy, Knoxville…" I said to myself as I drove down the highway. I was seriously considering going over to Alex's house at midnight even though I knew she didn't want to see me? I sighed, realizing how insane I was acting. I just needed to calm down and stop myself from thinking about Al. But that seemed like it was going to be pretty much impossible.

I drove to my apartment building. It was only midnight, which was pretty early for me. I usually didn't get home until three because I was either working late or drinking with the boys. But I knew I wouldn't be able to get any sleep tonight. I had too much on my mind. I walked up to my apartment, unlocking the door. I yawned, closing the door behind me. Another day was over with.

I took off my jacket, throwing it on the couch. Naomi always hated when I threw my jacket down. She said I should hang my clothes up or they would get worn out. But it didn't matter what she thought anymore. I sighed, sitting down on the couch. I looked around my apartment. This place…it was like a Naomi shrine. She picked out the couches and the rugs. Her pictures were on the walls. Her clothes were on my bedroom floor. I grimaced while I thought about it. Getting rid of Naomi wasn't as easy as saying goodbye was. My entire life would have to change. Maybe Alex was right all along. Maybe I wasn't over Naomi. But I had to get over her. Being with Naomi wasn't healthy for me. She was like a disease. She just ate away at me, leaving me with nothing. I had to cut her out of my life, no matter how hard it was. Why was the idea of leaving her so hard to wrap my head around? She cheated on me. I trusted her and she used me. She was using me the whole time. Thinking about how she cheated on me made me well up with anger. I didn't repress the resentment I felt when I thought about how she deceived me. I stood up, suddenly feeling furious. Naomi never loved me. She loved my lifestyle. And I was dumb enough to believe her when she said I was the one for her. She made me look like an idiot in front of the entire world. I had to end this charade once and for all.

I grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen, quickly storming around my apartment. I pulled pictures off the wall and notes off the refrigerator. Anything that reminded me of Naomi went into the garbage bag. Whether it was hers or mine, it didn't matter. I was throwing it all out. I went into my bedroom, picking up her stray articles of clothing and putting them in the bag. I took her picture off my bed stand. Then I walked to my dresser. This would be the hard part. I opened a drawer that contained everything that had to do with the wedding. I grimaced, rummaging through the drawer. There were pictures of suits and flowers—all things Naomi wanted me to pick up for our big day. No—_her _big day. I pulled out the drawer, dumping all the contents into the garbage bag. It was tough to do. It signified that the past three years of my life had been a lie. But it made me realize that I was finally moving on. I put the now-empty drawer back in its place. Done and done.

I picked up the full garbage bag, but I realized a stray paper had fallen out. I picked up the paper, examining it. _Vows. _Naomi wanted us to write our own vows. I had been worried sick about it. I was an actor—I read what other people wrote—but she told me to just write what I felt. I had been working on those vows for months, making sure they were just right. I read the vows I had written, staring at the mushy mess that I came up with. I wrote about her quirks that I loved and how she accepted me for who I was But it was all bullshit. Complete, utter bullshit. I thought I knew her, but I was wrong. I only knew the girl she wanted me to know. There was another side of Naomi Simmons—a vicious side that was ugly and cold blooded. I couldn't believe I wanted to marry that girl. I crumpled up my vows, throwing them in the garbage bag.

I hauled the bag to the curb, happy to get those items out of my home. It was like I was starting over fresh. I walked back into my apartment, a smile on my face. I was a new man. But when I looked around at my apartment, I found that it was empty. Nothing on the walls, nothing on the floor. Just furniture. I slowly walked around the apartment. There was no personalization, nothing that bared any memories, and nothing that made me smile. I cringed, finally understanding the mess I was in. Without Naomi, I was nothing. My apartment wasn't a home anymore, it was just four walls. I wasn't a person, I was just a body. I sighed, putting my head in my hands. I couldn't believe I let this happen to my life. What happened to just having fun and being happy? Now all my life was dodging bullets—from avoiding the paparazzi to ignoring how I felt about the people around me. I wanted to talk to someone, but there was no one there.

I impulsively walked to my phone and quickly dialed Alex's number. She would listen. She understood me. I sat in silence as the phone rang. _Wait_—what was I doing? I quickly hung up the phone. She didn't want to talk to me about my problems in the middle of the night. She didn't want to talk to me period. And besides, she was probably out with the guys or something. I held the phone in my hand, trying to fight the urge to call her back, but I quickly gave in. I redialed her number, letting the phone ring once more. I sighed when I realized I got the answering machine. A robotic voice told me to leave a message after the beep. I sighed. I didn't have a message for Alex. I just wanted to talk to her.

"Um…hey, Al," I said into the phone. "It's Johnny. I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but…I…I don't know. I just need to talk to you. So if you get this message, call me back. Even if it is four in the morning, you can give me a ring. But…uh…I guess I'll see you at work tomorrow. Bye." I hung up the phone, shaking my head. Alex would probably laugh when she heard that pathetic message. Oh well. I trudged over to the couch, lying down and staring at the wall. I just laid there, waiting to fall asleep. And after what felt like years, the sun had risen again. I didn't get a minute of sleep and I didn't get any calls from Alex. Overall, it was a miserable night.

I got off the couch, walking to the bathroom for a quick shower before work. It seemed like I was just at work, but now I had to go back. That was life: go to work, come home, repeat. I was the star of a hit television show on MTV. I was supposed to be going out every night and having a blast. I was supposed to be enjoying the life I always dreamt about. But going out was more trouble than it was worth. I didn't know when my life had become so mundane and dreary. But I tried to forget about those feelings as I drove to the work.

When I got to the Jackass offices, everything was normal. Everyone was sitting in Jeff's office, waiting to hear what we were doing today. I walked in, yawning and rubbing my eyes. I had no energy from my long, sleepless night, so I was hoping Jeff would cut me some slack during filming. But when I saw him smirk at me when I sat down in his office, I knew I wasn't getting a bit of sympathy.

"So, what are we doing today, Jeff?" I said plainly. He chuckled.

"Well, we were supposed to film a few stunts in this warehouse downtown," he began, "but the owner of the warehouse had second thoughts at the last minute and decided he didn't want a bunch of jackasses ruining his storehouse. So I had to make some quick adjustments to our schedule and I decided it would be best to move up the vert ramp stunt to today." I groaned with displeasure. I had been dreading this bit since Jeff suggested I do it. Something about trying to skate down a vertical ramp for the first time in my life made me feel extremely nervous.

"It'll be fine, Knox," Bam said, trying to comfort me. He patted me on the back. "I'll show you how to do it. It's easy. I mean, it only took me a few months to learn how to do it. I'm sure you'll be able to do it one try." He began laughing and a whacked him on the back of the head. "Ow!" Bam shouted. "I was just trying to help…"

"Do we have to do it today?" I complained. "I'm not in the mood to break my neck this morning." Jeff sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He was going to force me to do this whether I wanted to or not.

"You're going to have to it sometime, Johnny. So just do it today," Jeff said. "You're like the only guy who can't skate on the cast. So you have to do it. It's got to get done."

"Dunn can't skateboard!" I protested.

"You're doing it!" Jeff shouted. "Now everyone get in the van. I had to rent out some indoor skate park last minute and we have hours of filming to do. So we better get going." I stayed seated as everyone shuffled out of the room. Jeff walked over to me, speaking to me in a hushed voice after everyone left the office.

"How did it go last night?" Jeff said. I sighed. "I'm guessing not to good."

"I gave her a call," I said. "She didn't pick up or call me back. And I don't think she's talking to me. Or I might just be paranoid. I don't know, Jeff…"

"You're going to have to chase that one," he said. "But if you like her as much as I think you do, then she's worth the chase." Why did girls have to play so many games? Even Alex had to play around with my emotions. But Jeff was right—I really liked Alex and I would chase her until I got her. I stood up, walking with Jeff out of the office in silence. When we got out to the parking lot, Jeff tossed the keys to Dave. We all piled into the crowded van.

"It's too early for this shit," Chris complained as he sat next to Alex. "I got an hour of sleep last night. And now we've got to film again. I think we should start work later, Jeff. Noon would work better for me." Jeff rolled his eyes, sitting in the passengers' seat with his laptop sitting in front of him, typing up some document.

"How long is the ride to the skate park?" asked Steve, sitting beside me in the back.

"About an hour if the traffic isn't bad," Jeff answered. "But when is the traffic good in LA? I tried to rent a skate park that was closer, but it was too last minute. Nothing was available in town. "_Great._ We were going to be stuck in this damn van for over an hour. I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat just thinking about it.

"Well then everybody shut the fuck up," Bam said, sitting to my left. "I'm going to sleep…"

"Same here," Alex said, yawning. She pressed her head against the window, closing her eyes. Chris put his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly.

"Wanna cuddle, cutie?" he said with a chuckle.

"Fuck off," she groaned, pushing him off of her.

"Why are you all still talking?" Bam asked impatiently. "I'm trying to get some sleep here!" I put my head in my hands. Here I was, stuck between Bam and Steve-o, staring at the back of Pontius's head while he was fucking with Alex, who was falling asleep quickly. Kosick was dicking with his video camera, Ehren was bitching about something, and Preston, Ryan, and Wee Man were talking about how fucked up I was going to get from dropping in on the vert ramp. Jeff was now on his cell phone, yelling at some MTV executive because of a scheduling dilemma and Dave kept looking back at all of us, asking for directions to the skate park. It was like a circus.

After about twenty minutes passed, the guys seemed to chill out a bit. A few of the guys managed to fall asleep, including Bam, Ehren, and Alex. Falling asleep wasn't a smart thing to do when you are hanging out with the cast of Jackass. I learned that the hard way when I got a paintball to the back for falling asleep in Jeff's office a few weeks ago. So I just sat back and watched as Steve formulated a plan to get Alex while she was resting in the van.

"Dude," Steve said, reaching over and flicking the back of Chris's head. Chris turned around drowsily. "Is she asleep?" Steve asked, pointing to Al. Chris leaned over, waving his hand in front of Alex's face. She didn't move. She looked so peaceful with her head resting against the window and her eyes gently closed. I almost felt bad that they were about to fuck with her. _Wait_—I felt bad for someone about to get pranked? What was wrong with me?

"Should I be filming this?" Rick asked, flicking a few switches on his camera. Steve nodded and cackled happily, unhooking his belt buckle.

"Aw, that's not even fair," I protested in Alex's defense. "She's a chick. She's not even going to be able to get you back for that."

"She doesn't want us to discriminate against her," Steve said wryly. "And when someone falls asleep in the van, this is what happens to them, male or female…" I just shook my head, watching as Steve proceeded to piss all over Alex's back. She didn't wake up at first, but I think the sound of the guys' hysterical laughter woke her up. I punched Bam's arm, waking him up so he could watch the whole event unfold. I had a feeling Al was going to explode when she found out about Steve's prank.

"What the…" Alex woke up slowly, her eyes fluttering open. She put her hand on her back, probably wondering why her shirt was covered with a warm liquid. She turned and looked at Steve, who was grinning wildly. After a few seconds, she realized what was going on. "Fuck, Steve!" she shouted as the guys laughed. I couldn't help but laugh along with them—we had all been in her position once or twice. It was disgusting, but so funny.

"Come on, Alex," Ryan said. "You're lucky all he did was piss on you." Alex looked at him with horror in her eyes. Things always got pretty nasty when someone fell asleep in the van.

"That's fucking sick," she groaned, tugging on her now-soaked t-shirt. She tuned to Steve, glaring at him. "You just wait, Steve…"

"No, Al," Steve said. "I'm just messing with you. I'm sorry, okay. No hard feelings?" He extended his hand to her. "Handshake?" he said hopefully. She smiled, leaning over the seat to give him a handshake. But I knew there was no way she was going to accept his apology that quickly. When she was inches away from Steve, she took him off guard and hit him upside the face. The guys were laughing loudly as Kosick filmed the whole event.

"Asshole," Alex hissed, sitting down in her seat. Steve was still laughing even though his face was quickly reddening where Alex had hit him. But that was the Jackass way. We always laughed after we got hurt. Not because we are some sick masochistic freaks, but because we all knew it was going to make all the viewers of the show laugh. That just made us happy. But in the moment, Jeff was anything but happy.

"Okay guys," he said, putting down his phone. "We are renting this van. Now it is cover with Steve's piss. Can we manage to keep the rest of our bodily fluids to ourselves for the rest of the ride?" I laughed at Jeff's words. I bet Jeff would have never imagined he would be babysitting a bunch of adults when he started producing Jackass. He was barely a director. All he did was watch us and make sure we didn't do anything too stupid. And we usually ignored any of his directions anyways.

"God, the whole van smells like piss now!" Bam complained, opening his window. Foul odors—usually someone would start puking when something smelled bad. The last thing we needed was someone puking all over the van. I looked around and luckily, no one looked they were about to hurl. But I did see Chris laughing and leaning over the seat. He was turning to poke Steve's bruised face.

"You got slugged by a girl," he laughed. Steve and Chris began feuding about Steve's manhood while Alex began sleeping against the window once again, which was a pretty brave move. But she probably knew she was safe for the rest of the ride—I mean, who was going to mess with her after she fucked up Steve's face?

"How much longer till we get there?" asked Bam impatiently.

"About thirty more minutes…" said Jeff.

It was going to be a long day. The ride to the skate part seemed like it lasted hours, but work was just as bad. I did the vert ramp stunt first thing, and needless to say, it hurt like hell. I could barely stand on a skateboard, let alone skate down a ramp. Bam said he was going to prep me for the stunt, but all he did was tell me how to stand on the skateboard and then he gave me a push off the ramp. I stayed on the board for about two seconds, and then I lost my balance and fell down the ten foot ramp. The stunt couldn't have gone any worse, but I think that was the point. After we finished filming that bit, Jeff told me I could have a break while Kosick and him filmed some other skating tricks with Bam. I was just happy to have a couple of minutes to rest.

As I took off the helmet and other padding I had been wearing for the vert ramp bit, I realized Alex was sitting at the top of the ramp by herself. I knew it probably wasn't a good time to try and talk to her, but I couldn't help myself. I walked up to the top of the ramp, sitting beside her silently.

"Hey," she spoke after a few moments. I smiled, happy she was talking to me. I looked at her for a moment and I saw that she was wearing an oversized Jackass t-shirt.

"Nice shirt," I murmured. She chuckled.

"I found it in the back of the van," she replied. "It smells like sweat and it is huge, but I decided I'd rather smell like sweat than Steve's piss so I changed." We laughed quietly, but afterwards there was another pause of silence. Neither of us knew what to talk about. We both knew what we wanted to talk about—we wanted to talk about us—but we weren't going to. We would just keep pretending that nothing was wrong and we would keep repressing any feelings we had for each other. That sounded about right.

"That stunt you did…" Alex said after a few moments. "It went pretty terribly." I was glad she was changing the subject. Sitting with her in complete silence was painfully awkward.

"Did it make you laugh?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling. "You landed right on your face. It was hilarious."

"Then it was worth it," I said. She looked into my eyes for a moment, taken off guard by words. But she quickly looked away, fearing the spark we both felt when we looked at each other. Every time I looked into her eyes, I felt it. I knew she had to feel it too.

"Well, Bam could have at least given you some better directions," she said, avoiding looking into my eyes. "At least you would have had a chance. All he did was tell you to balance your weight and then he pushed you off the edge." I smiled. No one ever said Bam was a good teacher.

"Well I don't know a thing about skateboarding. What should I have done?" I asked, wondering if she would show me. She sighed, thinking about it for a moment.

"Well, your footing was all wrong," she started. "You should have had one foot on the nose of the board and one foot on the tail." I nodded, listening to her. "And your knees should have been bent. There is no way you could have stayed on your board on a vertical ramp with straight legs. And when you first dropped in—"

"Why don't you just show me?" I suggested.

"You really want to learn how to skate?" she questioned suspiciously. I nodded my head. "Well you shouldn't be starting on a vert ramp, that's for sure…"

"I always start big," I said. "If I can get this down, everything else is going to be really easy." She shrugged, standing up.

"Well grab a board," she said. I did as she told me. When I brought it to her, she placed it down on the edge of the ramp, telling me to stand on it. I placed one foot on the board, but it rolled away from me. Alex laughed, stopping the board with her foot.

"I told you I didn't know anything about skateboarding, didn't I?" I asked. She chuckled, putting the skateboard in front of me once again.

"Hold on to me," she said, staring at my feet as I stepped onto the board. I put my hands on Alex's shoulders to steady myself. "Okay," she said, once I felt comfortable with my stance. "Move your right foot back and your left foot forward." I did as she requested.

"Is that good?" I asked. She nodded, telling me it was fine.

"Now bend your knees," she said. She took my hands in hers, helping me get used to standing on the skateboard. "The ramp is really narrow. You're going to bend your knees more." I did so and she told me that I was good. "Now this is that hard part," she continued to explain, looking up at me with her hands in mine. "When you go down the ramp, you're going to have to lean as you go. Keep your knees bent. Feel the shape of the ramp…"

"I don't get it," I said. How was I supposed to feel the ramp? I thought I was just supposed to try to stay on the skateboard. Alex thought for a moment, trying to rephrase her words in a way that I would understand.

"You have to commit," she said. "When you first drop off the ramp, it is going to be tempting to just jump off your board. But you've got to stay on it. You just have to trust yourself and take a risk. You'll mess up if you second guess yourself. If you don't commit, you are just going to get hurt." I looked into her eyes, gripping her hands tightly. For some reason, I didn't think she was talking about skateboarding anymore.

"Commit," I murmured. "I can commit, Alex." She didn't interrupt me or push me away. She just held onto my hands, finally staring into my eyes. "I won't hurt you. You just have to…trust me…" I continued. I leaned in to kiss her and she didn't object. I closed my eyes, pressing my lips against her. Our fingers were laced together and our bodies were pressed together. That kiss was everything I had been hoping for. Sweet, soft, gentle, unexpected. It was our first kiss that wasn't fuel by alcohol and the paparazzi. It was perfect. While I was kissing her, I felt like I was flying. Literally, I felt like I was drifting away. But that was just the wheels of the skateboard I was standing on rolling down the ramp. _Shit._ Before I knew it, the board had rolled over the edge of the ramp, and I was still standing on it. Alex's hands were entwined with mine, so as I fell down the ramp, she came with me.

"Johnny!" she shouted before we fell over. With a loud thump, we both landed on the floor of the ramp. Falling off the ramp was much more painful this time seeing as how I wasn't wearing a helmet or pads, but my mind was on Alex, who had pretty much fallen on top of me. Her legs were entangled with mine, but her face hit the ramp pretty hard.

"Alex?" I said, sitting up as she crawled off of me. She looked at me and I saw that she had a pretty bad bloody nose. But in true Jackass fashion, she whipped up some of the blood with her arm and laughed.

"Forgot to bend your knees, huh Knoxville?" she said. I smiled at how she was making light of the situation. I mean, how many chicks would be laughing and cracking jokes after falling off a ten foot ramp? Only Alex.

"I was pretty distracted," I said, laughing. But as we sat there, laughing, I realized that the whole cast was staring at us. I also realized how strange the whole situation probably looked. We were lying on top of each other, bloody and mangled, and we were laughing.

"What the fuck happened here?" Jeff said, walking over to us. Alex and I practically jumped up, stepping apart, trying to look as natural as possible.

"I was just showing Johnny here some skating tricks," she explained. We exchanged looks and both started cracking up laughing. "Johnny learns really fast," she said sarcastically, staring at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Alex, you're bleeding everywhere!" Jeff said, running up to her. "Don't get blood on the ramp! We are renting this place! Your blood can't get all over the equipment!" Alex sighed, putting her head back like they tell you to in middle school when you get a nosebleed.

"Fuck, Jeff," Bam complained. "You were filming me doing stupid skating tricks for over an hour. You should have had Kosick filming these two assholes." I laughed uneasily, happy that none of them saw Alex and I kiss. That would have made things pretty awkward.

"Go get yourself cleaned up, Alex," Jeff said. "And everybody else, get back to work." I stared at Alex's back as she walked to the bathroom, still a little shocked at everything that just happened. I couldn't believe it. I kissed her. I finally kissed her. I was officially back on my game.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The rest of work went by at a miserably slow pace. Jeff cut me some slack and didn't make me do any more big stunts for the day, but it didn't matter because my mind was elsewhere. All I could think of was Alex. After we kissed, she started acting like nothing happened—it was almost like she was _ignoring _me. I was confused. I thought she might have been trying to stay away from me so all the other guys didn't get the sense that something was going on between us, but I wasn't sure. What if she was ignoring me because she regretted letting me kiss her? I hoped that wasn't the case because all I could think about was kissing her again.

I didn't get a chance to talk to her all day. We didn't have a second alone at work, so I had to bite my tongue and try to stop thinking about her. But it was so hard. I had so many questions for her and I needed answers. So when we got back to the office after a day at the skate park, I made sure to talk to Alex the first time I spotted her alone.

"Hey, Al!" I said, walking over to her. She was standing in the parking lot by herself and I knew this would be my last chance to talk to her all day. She smiled at me.

"What's up, Knoxville?" she said.

"A lot, actually," I replied. She grinned, shaking her head. "We need to talk," I added. "About us. I just need to know where I stand…"

"My taxi's going to be here any second," she said. I groaned. Why did she have to be so difficult? There was no way I waited all day to speak to her just to have her drive off without answering any of my questions.

"Let me drive you home," I suggested. She shook her head, about to turn down my offer, but I spoke again. "Come on, Al. Cabs are expensive. I'll give you a lift and you don't even have to tip me." She sighed, a small smile forming on her lips.

"Fine," she said. "But I'm warning you, there aren't any white picket fences in my neighborhood." I laughed. How bad could it be? I knew East LA wasn't the best part of town, but it couldn't be that terrible. I led Alex over to my car, opening her car door for her. She laughed cynically before sliding into the passenger's seat.

"What?" I said as I sat in the driver's seat.

"Opening doors for me," she said, still laughing. "And I thought chivalry was dead…" I rolled my eyes, putting the keys in the ignition. Alex was different than any girl I had dated in the past. Naomi would have been pissed for an hour of I didn't open a door for her or pull out a chair or something. But when I tried to do something nice for Alex, she laughed at me. If Alex and I ever ended up dating, I would have to get used to her laidback attitude.

Alex gave me some directions to her apartment, but after that, there was an uneasy silence in the car. I turned on the radio, hoping some music would make the drive less awkward. "What do you listen to?" I said after I turned on the radio, playing some country station.

"Not this," she said, quickly changing the station. I laughed.

"Not a country fan?" I said.

"No way," she chuckled. "I'm from New York City. All we listened to was punk. Sex Pistols, Violent Femmes, Dead Kennedys…"

"Ramones?" I asked.

"Of course," she replied, settling on some classic rock station. "I stole your Ramones shirt, didn't I?" I laughed, having forgotten all about that.

"You know, Steve found your shirt in my apartment," I said. She started laughing. "Yeah, I was trying to tell them that we weren't messing around and Steve starts finding articles of your clothing around my apartment. That was pretty hard to explain."

"What'd you tell him?" she asked, still grinning.

"The truth," I said. She nodded.

"Did you tell any of them about what happened at the skate park?" she asked after a few moments. "Or do you think they saw?"

"No," I said. "Didn't tell them anything. And I don't think anyone saw anything, either." She gave a sigh of relief. I was glad none of them saw us kiss. They would have given us hell for it. They would have been asking us questions and messing with Alex. It was better that they didn't know anything that was going on between us.

"Yeah, if they saw us kiss, we would still be hearing about it," Alex chuckled in agreement. "They are some of the most nosey men I have ever met. I thought girls were supposed to be the ones who thrived on drama? Not a bunch of guys." I laughed. Those guys did love to get into my business. Especially when it concerned my love life. I could only imagine their reactions if they found out about Alex and me.

"Steve likes talking about you. He would have killed me if he found out that I kissed you," I said. "I think he's in love with you." Alex rolled her eyes and I laughed. I wasn't making it up—Steve has had his eyes on Alex since the first day we met her. I couldn't blame him. She was pretty, funny, and really cool. She could keep up with his wild partying and she looked good doing it. Of course he was going to like her. It was just a crush, but I still thought it was funny as hell.

"Shut up," she groaned as I spoke about how Steve liked her.

"No, really!" I said, gripping the steering wheel. "He's got a thing for you. He was really jealous when he found out you came back to my place that one night. You know, maybe that's why he pissed on you. Don't animals piss all over their territory?" I was laughing hysterically and Alex was frowning. "Bam said he's fuck you too. Said you were probably a freak in bed or something—"

"Jesus, Johnny!" she shouted. "Why are you telling me this? I don't want to know this shit! If your friends are sickos, they should keep all their sexual perversions to themselves…"

"They're your friends, too," I countered.

"Bam said he wanted to put his dick in me. Does that sound like a friend to you?"

"Friends that sleep together stay together," I said with a smile. She just shook her head. "And what do you expect, Alex? They're a bunch of hypersexual assholes. And you're a hot girl—"

"No I'm not," she said, shaking her head.

"Don't even give me that!" I said. "We all saw the pictures of you going to a club with Laura and Missy. Wearing that little black dress—who were you trying to impress? The paparazzi?"

"No," she said. "I was trying to impress you." I quickly took my eyes off the road, looking at her, trying to see if she was serious. There wasn't a hint of humor in her face. "It was Missy's idea. She said I should dress like a girl if I wanted to get you to notice me…"

"Alex, it doesn't matter what you're wearing," I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "I am going to notice you." She laughed.

"I told her I wasn't trying to get your attention. But she said I should make you feel stupid for wasting your time with Naomi when you could have been with me. Pretty dumb, right?"

"Well, you can tell Missy that her plan worked," I said. "When I saw those pictures, I couldn't believe that I was still screwing around with Naomi. I couldn't believe I ever dated a girl like Naomi. I mean, we were so different. Complete opposites. She just didn't understand my lifestyle." Seeing those pictures of Alex made me realize how similar we really were. We were in the same industry. We worked together. We both had to deal with the paparazzi. It was easy for us to understand each other—easier than it had been for Naomi and me to understand each other. As I thought about this, I remember Alex's run in with Naomi at the club. I wanted to ask Alex about what happened.

"I heard that you beat Naomi's ass in the club," I said nonchalantly. I wasn't sure if Alex did beat up Naomi, but if she did I wasn't going to rag on her about it. I wasn't going to try and control Alex and I wasn't going to worry about Naomi anymore. She never worried about me when we were still in a relationship, so why should I worry about her after we broke up?

"Not true," Alex said. "I really wanted to, but Missy wouldn't let me."

"What happened?" I asked. "What did she say to you?" Alex laughed.

"She said I was trash and I was a jealous bitch," she said. "She was just talking a lot of shit and she expected me to just sit there and take it. She was messing with the wrong bitch."

"I don't understand girls," I said. "Naomi told me it was fine if I slept with someone else. She said she forgave me because we both made mistakes. But then she goes after you…"

"She's all talk," Alex said, shaking her head. "Like a little dog that won't stop barking. And she put her hands on me so I pushed her against the wall and told her if she wanted to fight I would beat the shit out of her. But Missy told me to stop and Laura was puking all over the place. So we just left before anything too exciting happened."

"Wow," I said as we neared Alex's apartment building. "Two girls fighting over me. How lucky can a guy get…"

"We weren't fighting over you, asshole," she laughed as I drove into the parking lot in front of her building. "We were fighting because she is a bitch who needs to learn to keep her mouth shut." I parked the car. "And besides, I wouldn't have needed to fight Naomi over you. I could have had you whenever I wanted you."

"Cocky," I said. "But probably true." She laughed, getting out of the car.

"Thanks for the ride, Johnny," she said. I smiled at her and waved, but then I realized that we didn't talk at all about our relationship. And I really needed to find out what was going on between us. I needed to find out tonight.

"Wait!" I shouted before she closed the car door. She looked back at me. "You forgot to invite me in," I said, grinning. She shook her head.

"My place is a shithole," she said. "You don't want me to invite you in."

"Yeah I do," I said. "And there is no way your place can be more of a shithole than Steve's. That guy's apartment needs to be condemned…"

"Maybe some other time, Knox. It is like, midnight—"

_"Please!" _I whined. She thought about it for a moment, but I continued to beg. Finally, she sighed, letting me get my way.

"Fine," she said. "For, like, thirty minutes. Then I am kicking your ass out." I got out of the car, happy to be seeing Alex's place for the first time. I walked with her up the stairs to her apartment. She put the key in the door, flinging it open carelessly. "Welcome to casa de Kidd," she said nonchalantly. Her apartment looked how I expected it to. There were broken decks on the floor and a surfboard propped up against the wall. There were some Christmas lights strung from the ceiling and the walls were covered with old posters. Here place reminded me of my bedroom when I lived in Knoxville. It wasn't too messy, just lived in. I liked it.

"What are you smiling about, cowboy?" Alex said. _Smiling?_ I didn't even realize I was smiling.

"I like your apartment," I said. "It's…eclectic. My place is plain and boring." She laughed.

"Your place is way nicer than mine," she argued. "And your apartment is like, three times bigger than mine."

"I thought size didn't matter?" I chuckled.

"Whatever chick told you that was lying," she said, narrowing her eyebrows, walking into another room. "But, uh, I guess you can make yourself comfortable in my _quaint_ home. I'd give you a tour, but there isn't much to see." I watched as she stepped into her bedroom, pulling off the huge Jackass shirt she had been wearing. I stared at her as she searched around her room wearing only a bra and jeans, looking for another shirt. Finally she found one in some pile of clothing. She slid the shirt over her head, but she noticed I was staring.

"Perv," she laughed, throwing the Jackass shirt in my face.

"If you didn't want me to look you would have closed the door," I relied. She rolled her eyes as if she didn't know what I was talking about. I smirked at her because I knew what kind of games she was trying to play with me. "You know what, Alex?" I said. "You are a huge tease." She furrowed her eyebrows as if she was surprised that I said that.

"No, I'm not," she said, shaking her head.

"Yes you are," I replied, stepping closer to her. "We kiss and you pretend it never happened. You get changed in front of me and you know I'm watching. Why are you taunting me?" She didn't say anything; she just looked up at me as I took another step towards her. "Is this like a game to you? Are you just playing with me until you get bored?"

"You make it so easy," she said with a smirk, placing her hand on my chest. "Relationships are boring. So much beating around the bush. So much waiting. I hate it," she continued. "If you want something from me, Johnny, just take it." I didn't wait another second. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. I kissed her gently, but she took the initiative to deepen the kiss, grabbing my shirt with her fists. I entangled my fingers in her hair, surprised by her sudden force. But I couldn't say I didn't like it.

I laughed lightly, breaking our kiss. "What happened to sweet, soft kisses?" I asked, resting my forehead against hers.

"I'm not playing games anymore," she replied. I leaned in, craving her lips once more, but a loud knocking noise caused me to stop in my tracks. Alex sighed.

"Keep it down in there!" someone shouted. "You wake me up every night with your ruckus, _Alejandra!_" I looked at Alex, a little confused.

"It's the lady from the apartment next door," Alex explained in a frustrated whisper. "She knocks on the wall when she thinks I am being too loud." I chuckled, still holding Alex tightly in my arms. "Sorry Mrs. Marquez!" Alex shouted at the wall.

"So does that mean I have to go?" I asked, stroking Alex's cheek. She stared at me for a moment, but then a huge smile formed on her face.

"Let's go out," she said. "The night is still young." She headed for the door and I followed her. I didn't ask where we were going. Honestly, it didn't matter. I would have followed her anywhere.

Alex and I walked outside. It was dark and the only light was that from the moon. "There aren't many good things about living in East LA, but one good thing is that you can get to the beach in a few minutes," she said as we walked around her apartment building. Surely enough, the ocean was right there. I smiled just seeing it. Driving through East LA, all I saw was graffiti and homeless people and the occasional hooker. But the beach was beautiful. It was almost strange seeing it in East LA.

"I don't think I've ever been to the beach in the middle of the night," I said, laughing. "With work and Naomi and all the stuff I have been dealing with, I haven't been to the beach in months." Alex looked shocked after I said that.

"How do you live in LA and not go to the beach weekly?" Alex said as we stepped onto the sandy shore. "I come here whenever I need to think. At night, the whole beach is deserted." She sat down in the sand and I sat next to her. "I've been coming here nightly. Now more than ever. There is so much bullshit going on, but when you look out in the ocean, none of it matters." I look at the water, which was glistening with the reflection of the moon and the stars. Alex was right. It was breathtaking. "This right here—this is life," she continued. "It's moments like these that you will never get back." I took my eyes of the ocean and looked at Alex. I took her hand in mine, lacing her fingers with mine.

"I really like this, Alex," I said. "You and me. It feels right."

"I couldn't stop this is I wanted to," she said with a smile. "I tried. I tried to stop thinking about you and I tried to forget about my feelings about you. But I couldn't. I wish I could, but I can't." I stroked the back of her hand. "This is going to be hard. You and me. We are going to have to deal with the paparazzi and the show and the drama—"

"No one has to know anything," I said, squeezing her hand. "Not Jeff and not the guys. Definitely not the paparazzi…" She just stared out into the ocean.

"Come on," she said, standing up. I looked up at her inquisitively as I watched her pulling off her shirt, throwing it on the ground. "Let's go in the water." I watched as she unbuttoned her jeans, quickly slipping out of them. I raised an eyebrow, staring at the half-naked girl standing before me. She sighed, shaking her head. "Come on, Knoxville!" she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

"You're crazy, you know that?" I said. "What if the paparazzi show up? Or what if someone recognizes us? How would we explain that?" She just rolled her eyes.

"Who gives a shit?" she shouted, smiling. "Do something spontaneous! Have some fun!" I shook my head, kicking off my sneakers.

"Do you usually go swimming in your underwear at midnight?" I asked, pulling off my shirt. "Should I get used to you doing weird shit like this all the time?"

"Is being spontaneous really that weird?" she said as I pulled off my jeans. I was trying to think up a rebuttal when she grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the ocean.

I guess Alex was right when she said you had to live in the moment. In that moment, I remember what it was like to have fun. The guys were constantly telling me to go out and getting wasted and chase chicks. They said that was what I needed to do to get over Naomi. But in that moment, gripping Alex's hand and charging into the warm, ocean water, Naomi was the farthest thing from my mind. I didn't need to do things I would live to regret to be happy. Sometimes, being in the presence of the right person can make you happy. And being with Alex made me happier than I had been in months.

So there we were, waste deep in salt water, splashing each other and laughing loudly. I would never forget how Alex looked with her dirty blonde curls dripping with water. And how bright her smile was. And the way her skin felt when it was pressed against mine. I would never forget the way it all made me feel.

I held her close to me in the water, my forehead pressed against hers. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Johnny," she said, closing her eyes. "I hope you know that you are taking a risk with me." I smiled.

"You're worth the risk," I whispered, kissing her on the top of her head. And just like that, she had my heart in her hand. I hoped she would be more careful with it than Naomi had been.


	9. Take It Like A Girl (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Nine: Take It Like A Girl (Alex)_

I laughed, laying back in the sand, staring straight up at the sky. Johnny had been telling me some hilarious stories from filming the first season of Jackass. My sides hurt from laughing so hard. "Season one was great," he explained. "None of us thought it was going anywhere. We were just having fun. I still can't believe all this happened. Who would have ever guessed that we end up with a television show on MTV? Even though we are filming the second season, it still doesn't feel real." I stared at the gray clouds forming in the sky. I still couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening with Jackass. If someone told me a couple of months ago that I was going to be on a hit television show, I would have laughed in their face. But look at me now. I'm the same idiot, but now I'm an idiot with a TV show.

"I never had a television when I was growing up," I said. "We couldn't afford one. But even if we could, my mom wouldn't have let us watch TV. She said it was bad for developing minds. Said we should form our own opinions and not let people on TV tell us how to think." I chuckled at how silly it was. "I didn't know what MTV was until I moved out here. And now I'm filming a show for MTV. How ironic." Johnny laughed, laying next to me on the beach as the sun rose.

"Wonder what your mom is going to think when she finds out that you're on Jackass," he said. "You think she will ever find out?" I thought about it, but I had no idea.

"I don't know," I said, pausing for a moment. Thoughts about my mother were usually fleeting, but now that I was actually thinking about her, I couldn't stop. "I haven't talked to her in years. I haven't seen her since I was in high school. Even if I wanted to talk to her, I wouldn't know where to start. I don't have her phone number. I don't know where she lives. I'm pretty sure she got evicted from our old apartment. She wasn't working when I left. She could be homeless. She could be dead for all I know." After a said that, I felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. I didn't know if my own mother was alive. It made me feel sick. "I was so selfish," I continued. "My mom had her problems, but how could I have left her in Queens knowing that she was days away from being kicked out of our apartment? Times were hard. Solo just died and…I should have helped her." Johnny sighed, putting his hand on top of mine.

"We all should have done a lot of things," he said. "You can't harp on it, Al. Because you can't change the past." He was right. Although the things I did to my family while I was a teenager made me feel disgusted with myself, there was no way I could change them. Everyone made mistakes—that was life. But weren't you supposed to learn from your mistakes? I didn't feel like I was learning much. "Besides," Johnny said, sitting up, "if you stayed in Queens, you never would have moved here and you wouldn't have been on Jackass and you would have never met me…" I sat up, letting him kiss me. "And we would have never been able to stay up all night, sitting on the beach, talking." I put my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. Talking to him put my mind at ease. The things he said comforted me. I just wanted him to keep talking so I would have something to think about other than my own problems.

"Talk about your family," I requested. "Tell me something nice." He put his arm around me, stroking my back. I shivered in his arms. I couldn't help but feel safe with him. A part of me hated that feeling. Johnny was no better than any other boyfriend I ever had, so why did I feel so comfortable with him? He could hurt me as easily as all the others did. But when I was with him, my walls came down so effortlessly. I was so vulnerable when I was with him. He could break my heart at any minute—at any second. But I knew he wouldn't. I kept telling myself he wouldn't.

"Well, when the sun just started to rise this morning, I thought of something my mom used to tell me," Johnny said, resting his head on top of mine. "She said that no matter how dark the night was, the sun was always going to rise the next day. She told me tons of little sayings when I was living at home. She thinks everyday is a chance to change your life. Loves family and all that. Says that no matter what you have, it means nothing if you don't have anyone to share it with." He squeezed me tightly. "I never thought too much about the stuff she said. But I think I get it now." He paused and I waited patiently for him to continue. "I never watched the sunrise before today. And I am glad I got to share this moment with you." He kissed the top of my head. I felt so secure.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," I spoke. "Just you and me. Not having to worry about anything. Just sitting on the beach and talking." Johnny didn't say anything. I knew he loved Jackass. While none of us wanted to get up at seven in the morning to go to work, I knew he enjoyed filming. I enjoyed it too, but I wasn't sure if show business was right for me. I wasn't charismatic or charming or anything you needed to be if you wanted to become famous. But I loved the guys. And I loved the free booze I was getting on Tremaine's tab. I would keep filming as long as they wanted me to. "Come on," I said, standing up. "We've got to go to work."

Johnny and I trudged back to my apartment in silence. We didn't get any sleep during the night, so I knew work was going to be miserable today. I wondered if I was going to be able to get through the workday without falling asleep. But it was worth it. I had so much fun with Johnny that night. Just laughing and talking—it was exactly what I needed after the stress week I had been having.

By the time we got back to my place, it was almost seven o'clock. We hoped right into Johnny's car. We didn't have any time to go back to my apartment and freshen up for work. I would have killed to take a quick shower—or a quick nap—but if we left for work a minute later we wouldn't have made it to work on time. My hair was still knotted and nappy from swimming the night before, but I just pulled it up into a messy bun and slid on a pair of sunglasses. I probably looked like shit, but I wasn't too worried about how I looked around the guys.

After the quick drive to the office was over, Johnny and I got out of the car. We had already discussed how we were going to act around the guys at work. We were going to pretend there was nothing going on between us—at least for now. I wasn't sure how the guys would react to finding out that Johnny and I were more than friends. Johnny told me they would probably be weird about it at first, but eventually they would get used to it. I wasn't so sure that they would _ever _get used to it, so I told Johnny I would rather not let them know about our relationship. I didn't want them to be judgmental and I didn't want them to act funny around me. And what if one of them let something slip to the media? It would be terrible. It would be better for Johnny and me to keep our relationship to ourselves.

As we walked into the office building, it began raining outside. Johnny and I ran inside, not wanting to get caught in the storm. When we got to Jeff's office, he was smiling, reading some papers on his desk. Most the guys were in Jeff's office—excluding Bam and Ryan who I assumed were running late. They probably got caught in the storm or something. "What's got you smiling?" Johnny said before yawning and sitting down on the couch. I followed, sitting down beside him.

"A few things, actually," Jeff said, putting down the papers he was holding. "First of all, MTV and I came to an agreement. Jackass is set to premiere at the end of July, which is perfect. That gives us another two months to finish up with filming. We are going to have to work hard, but I'm sure we can get it all done by then." Jeff was grinning from ear to ear, but that news wasn't too thrilling to me. I guess it was good, but I was ready to fall asleep and a settlement with MTV wasn't going to get me excited. And was two months really that much time? I grimaced, realizing how much filming Jeff probably had planned for us over the next few months.

"What else is going on?" Johnny asked. I wanted to know as well. Usually, Jeff only had bad news about some shit that happened with production o scheduling. Seeing Jeff happy about anything that had to do with Jackass was just strange.

"Well, I wanted to wait until everyone was here," Jeff said, looking around the office at all of us. Chris, Dave, Ehren, Steve, Wee Man, Preston, Kosick, Johnny and I were all there, but two Jackass cast members still hadn't shown up. "But it looks like Bam and Dunn aren't showing up any time soon. So I'll just spill the beans now." Everyone stared at Jeff, eager to hear the good news. "I got a letter from MTV UK this morning," Jeff started. "They said there are some diehard Jackass fans over there. The week Jackass premiers in July, they want us to stay in London for a couple of weeks to interviews. They offered to pay for airfare and the hotel rooms. We are crossing the pond, boys!" I smiled, happily surprised by what I had just heard. I had never left the country before. I had never even been in an airplane. I couldn't believe people in the United Kingdom were actually anticipating the premier of the second season of Jackass, and more importantly, they were anticipating seeing us! It was like we were actual celebrities or something.

"That's fucking awesome, Jeff!" Steve said. We all agreed. This was the biggest news I had received since I got a spot on the show. I had no idea Jackass was that popular—especially out of the country. I was still in shock and so where all the guys. We happily chatted about the upcoming trip to the United Kingdom, but after a couple of minutes Jeff told us to settle down and reminded us that we still had work to do.

"Now that all of you are hyped up about going to Britain," Jeff started, standing up from behind his desk, "we need to start filming." Just as Jeff began to tell us what we were doing today, a sharp crack of thunder stopped Jeff midsentence. He looked utterly infuriated after realizing it was raining outside. "Damn!" he shouted, looking out the window. Gray clouds clogged up the sky and it was pouring rain. "We were supposed to film outside all day today!" Jeff continued to complain, staring at the sky.

"Looks like we are going to have to make a change of plans," Chris said with a chuckle.

"It's the second day in a row we have had to change our schedule," Jeff complained, pacing back and forth across the office. He got really upset whenever something affected the plans he set up. Whether it was the weather conditions or a cast member's tardiness, if something interfered with Jeff's scheduling, he got pissed.

"We can do something around the office," I suggested, trying to think up something to help Jeff. "I mean, Bam and Dunn still aren't here so we are going to have to wait for them either way. Why not just try to film some funny bits at the office?" Jeff shrugged, entertaining the idea.

"Got any ideas of something to do?" Jeff said. Though we had planned tons of skits, most of them consisted of us being on a certain set or using certain props. If we were going to film something at the office, we would have to make it up as we went. That wasn't a bad thing—the best Jackass clips were made up on the spot—but filming in the office was still quite limiting.

"Well, give us something to work with," Johnny said. Jeff sighed, pulling open the drawer of his desk. He dumped out some items. "Thanks Jeff," Johnny said sarcastically. "I'm sure we can do some really funny stunts with two highlighters and a roll of tape." Jeff shrugged as Johnny dug through some of Jeff's stuff. He tossed random items Jeff as he searched. There was a pen, a few pads of paper, a pair of pliers, a lighter…not much of anything.

"How about you guys just punch each other in the face for the next hour," Jeff said sarcastically. "Kosick can film it. It'll be great." I chuckled, wondering if that was the best idea we were going to be able to come up with. Johnny rolled his eyes, pick up the pliers.

"Anybody need a tooth pulled?" he chuckled, poking Jeff with the tool. "That'd be kind of funny. And my dad always wanted me to go into dentistry."

"I could imagine that headline already," Dave said. "Jackass star dies of tooth infection caused by a root canal performed by Johnny Knoxville with a rusted pair of pliers." I laughed at Dave's comment. These ideas would never work. They were either to dangerous or they just weren't fit for the office. I was trying to think up something funny to do, possibly involving a pair of pliers, when I suddenly got an idea. A really stupid idea, but still an idea.

"Knoxville," I said, standing up. "Pull my hair out."

"Kinky," Chris snickered. I sneered at him before turning back to Johnny.

"No, seriously," I repeated. "Use the pliers too pull out a chunk of my hair. That'd be pretty entertaining, right?" The guys agreed that it would be pretty funny to watch. They also agreed that it was stupid and it was going to be painful as fuck, but all skits on Jackass were like that.

"If you want to do it, then go for it," Jeff said. He usually encouraged us to do whatever stunts we were up for, no matter how dangerous they were. He would probably get Kosick to film us killing ourselves if we told him to. But Tremaine was infamous for never being on set when a really dangerous stunt was going to go down. In the case that something went terribly wrong, he wanted to be miles away. Luckily, my little scalping bit was relatively safe. Still, Johnny didn't want any part of it.

"I'm not pulling her hair out," Johnny protested. "That's going to hurt like hell." I rolled my eyes, surprised by his sudden care for the wellbeing of his coworkers.

"You pushed me off a ten foot ramp yesterday and today you are afraid to pull some of my hair out?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "When'd you become such a pussy?" The other guys laughed but Johnny just sighed, putting down the pliers.

"I'm not doing it," he stated firmly. I just shrugged, letting my knotted hair down from the bun I had it in. If Johnny wasn't going to do this for me, I would find someone that would.

"Well someone's got to do it," I said. "Because I can't do it myself." Finally, Chris volunteered to help me out—if you consider volunteering to scalp someone helpful. I sat down in a chair and Chris stood behind me, parting my hair and preparing to rip some out. Thankfully, he picked a spot on the back of my head that would be easy to cover up after this was all over with. Kosick picked up his camera as Pontius got ready to yank out a chunk of my hair.

"This is so stupid," Johnny said, shaking his head. I sighed, making a face at him. I knew he didn't have a problem with the whole scalping bit, he just didn't want me to be the one doing it. He was going to have a problem with any stunt I did for the rest of my Jackass career. He was just being protective. As much as I hated to admit it, I would probably be worried before he did stunts in the future. I didn't want to see him get hurt. I didn't want to see any of my coworkers get hurt, but I also understood that our job entailed getting hurt. At a certain point, you just had to sit back and laugh.

"You ready Kosick?" Chris said, clamping the pliers down on a clump of my hair. Rick gave Chris the okay and I braced myself for the pain that I knew was coming. "You ready, Kidd?" Chris said to me.

"Just fucking do it," I hissed, gritting my teeth. Chris didn't wait another second. He yanked out a bunch of my hair, causing me to groan in pain. The guys started laughing immediately after. Chris showed me how much hair he pulled, and I have to say I was shocked. And not on a good way.

"That's it?" I said, seeing the strand of hair Chris pulled out. I was imaging that Pontius pulled out a huge clump of my hair, not just a few strands. Honestly, I wasn't impressed. "Do it again," I requested. I know I sounded crazy, but there was no point in filming the bit if it wasn't even going to look extremely insane. That is how shit got on Jackass.

"Are you serious?" Chris replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," I said. "Don't stop until I have a bald spot, like the size of a dime or something. Or until my head starts bleeding…" Johnny groaned after I mentioned blood. "Calm down, Knox," I said as Chris grabbed some more of my hair, preparing to pull it out.

"This is demented," Johnny protested. "I can't calm down." I was about to reply when Chris pulled out some more of my hair. I didn't even scream that time—it hurt so bad I felt like somebody knocked the wind out of me. The guys laughed as my jaw dropped, feeling the intense pain. I turned to see Chris holding another few strands of hair. I sighed.

"Fuck, Pontius!" I said. "That's pathetic!"

"I'm trying here!" he said, fumbling around with his tool and my hair. I rolled my eyes as he came up with another excuse. "These pliers are just too small," he said.

"Let me try," Steve said, standing beside Chris. Chris tried to give him the pliers, but Steve said he didn't need them. He put one hand on the back of my hand and he used his free hand to grab a patch of my hair. "I bet more will come out if you use your hands…"

"Is this like, your sickest fantasy come true, Steve?" Wee Man said. Steve laughed and I cringed. Before I could even think about what Wee Man had just suggested, Steve yanked out a huge clump of my hair. And that one hurt like a bitch.

"Fuck!" I shouted, immediately turning to Steve. He was holding a clump of my hair in his hand. I put my hand on the back of my head, feeling the small area on the back of my head where I was now bald. "Jesus Christ," I groaned as Kosick filmed the whole event.

"I bet we could sell her hair on the internet for cash," Steve said.

"Or we could make Jackass friendship bracelets with her hair," Chris said. "Cute right?" I laughed even though I felt like the back of my head was on fire. Kosick chuckled, putting his camera down. Someone handed me a hand mirror and I struggled to get a view of the bald spot on the back of my head. A smiled after seeing the small patch on my scalp that was missing hair.

"I am such a stupid girl," I groaned, rubbing the back of my head.

"You got that right," Johnny spoke. I stuck my tongue out at him and he just smiled.

The rest of the day was filled with the world's shittiest stunts. We fucked around with the other guys working in the building, we spun on office chairs until someone puked, and shot paintballs at Bam and Dunn when they finally decided to show up. By the end of the day, everyone on the building was giving us dirty looks, but we got a shitload of footage, so I guess it was worth it.

Johnny and I didn't get any time alone all day. I knew it was going to be like that and I didn't really mind. I was used to suppressing my feelings for Johnny—I had been doing it for a while. And I think I was getting pretty good at it. None of the guys at work had a clue of what was going on between Johnny and I, and that was exactly how I wanted it. I was purposely distant from Johnny at work because I didn't want any of the other guys getting any ideas. I could tell my distance was driving Johnny crazy, but I didn't really care. Actually, I found it quite amusing.

Jeff let us leave work early at five o'clock in the afternoon. Johnny offered to take me home and I would have accepted, but before I could, Jeff asked Johnny to stay at work late to work on some editing. Being the yes-man that he was, Johnny agreed to help Jeff. I called a cab to bring me home instead. And I actually had to tip the driver.

When I got to my apartment, I was preparing for a quiet night. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. I was too tired to go out with the guys from work and I was too tired to even pour myself a drink. I just walked into my apartment and passed out on the couch, intent on sleeping straight through the night with no interruptions. Sleeping on the couch was uncomfortable, but I couldn't bring myself to sleep in my bedroom. Every time I walked into that room, I imagined Van in bed with that girl. And even though I tossed the bed sheets out the window with the rest of Van's belongings, I couldn't get an ounce of sleep in there. It wasn't that my mattress was uncomfortable, it was that the room made me feel sick. Whenever I was in there, all I could do was stare at the wall where Van overpowered me and hit me. I cringed, closing my eyes tighter as I laid on the couch, forcing the thoughts out of my mind. As they say, ignorance is bliss.

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep. It was a good, dreamless sleep, but after a few hours, I was awoken by a knock at the door. I was irritated when I looked at the clock and saw that it was only eight o'clock at night. I had only been sleeping for a few hours. Who was coming over to my place? I threw myself off the couch, assuming it was probably Cameron. Or maybe Johnny. Suddenly, I wasn't so angry that I was woken up. I walked over to the door quickly, flinging it open, hoping to see a friendly face. But Cameron wasn't on the other side and either was Johnny. It was Van. My heart sank.

In that moment, I had no idea what I should do. I wanted to run and scream and cry all at the same time. It was like I was frozen in front of him. For a moment, I wondered if I was having a nightmare. I wanted to close my eyes and have it all go away, but every time I blinked, Van was still there. I felt like I swallowed a rock. My throat was dry and my palms got sweaty and I just wanted to slam the door in his face but I couldn't. It was like I was paralyzed—paralyzed with fear. But Van just pushed me aside, walking inside my apartment and sitting on the couch. He sat back and put his feet up on the coffee table as if he was a welcomed guest. He looked at me with confused eyes.

"So," he started as I closed the front door, "when were you going to tell me about your new job?" He hissed his question as if I did something wrong. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to say anything. I just wanted to tell him to leave. But I managed some words.

"I wasn't planning on telling you anything," I said, putting on the bravest front I could. I didn't want him to know how badly he intimidated me. I didn't want to give him any more power than he already had over me. So I spoke as fearlessly as I could. "You know, I don't have to tell you anything anymore, Van," I spat.

"It would have been nice, though," he said casually. "Is that why you left me, Al? Because you got a new Hollywood job and you didn't want me dragging you down? Because that is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit…" I wanted to tell him I left him because he put his hands on me, but I didn't. I was too scared to bring that up again. I didn't understand him. Why did he keep coming back into my life? His actions told me that he hated me, yet he kept coming back, trying to convince me we should be together. Why? I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to be with him. But he just didn't get it.

"Van, just leave—" I said, but he cut me off.

"Tell me, Alex," he started, disregarding my statement. "That guy that you are in all the magazines with. The one you were with at the bar a few weeks ago. The pretty boy. You screwing him or what?" I tried to bite my tongue. I didn't want to give Van the satisfaction he got when he pushed my buttons. But I couldn't help it. I started shouting. Who did he think he was, marching in and out of my life as he pleased, prying into my personal business, and acting like I should feel guilty for moving on? He was insane.

"It's none of your business!" I shouted. "How much clearer can I be, Van? Get the fuck out of my apartment! Get out of my life! What else can I say to make you leave?" Van just snickered.

"I'm not going anywhere, Al," he said plainly. "I…I have been thinking a lot lately. About us. We were really good together, you know? We were together for two years. And ever since you left me, I can't stop thinking about you. Just give me another chance and I swear I'll—"

"No way, Van," I breathed. I was disgusted that he would even ask. I was angry that he would even say that he missed me. If he missed me, why did he cheat on me when we were together? If he loved me, why did he hurt me? While these questions ate away at me, Van began voicing some questions of his own.

"Why?" he said. "You are so high and mighty, you know? You think you're too good for me now that you're going to be on some stupid TV show or something?" There he went, turning everything on me again. It was my fault that he was an asshole. So what if I got a new job? What did that have to do with anything? I should have just shut my mouth and demanded that he left, but I didn't.

"I'm seeing someone else!" I shouted, immediately wishing I hadn't. Although I was trying to make Van realize we were done, all I was doing was adding fuel to the fire. I swear I could see the rage burning in his eyes.

"It's that fucking hillbilly from the bar isn't?" Van said, venom dripping from his words. He shifted on my couch, crossing and uncrossing his legs. "What's so special about him, Alex? Does he have a lot of money or something? You fucking him to get on TV? I thought you were smarter than that."

"Fuck you, Van! We were together for two whole years and you still don't know a thing about me!" I shouted back. "And that _hillbilly _is more of a man than you'll ever be." Johnny would never put his hands on me. Even if he was immature or irresponsible, he would never hit a woman. He was better than that. Van wasn't. I watched as he glared at me, standing up and walking towards me. I hoped I didn't look as frightened as I felt.

"You know what, Alex? I didn't want to have to resort to this," he said. I cringed, wondering it was that he didn't want to resort to. "But I have got loads of shit on you. And I bet tons of tabloids would be willing to pay me big bucks to hear those stories." I inhaled deeply, realizing where he was headed. He must have seen the shock in my eyes because a twisted smile appeared on his face. "Yeah. Maybe they'd like to hear about your alcoholic mother or your deadbeat dad. Or your brother. Or how about all that nose candy you were doing when you moved out to Cali? I know enough about you to keep those tabloids busy for a while…"

"Please don't," I whispered, suddenly vulnerable to him. "Please…" I couldn't have the media know about my past. When I came to California, I was trying to escape my old life. If the tabloids found out about it there would be no way I could escape it. Those stories would be haunting me forever. I hated myself for ever telling Van something that was so precious. I shouldn't have trusted him. I was so stupid for ever thinking he loved me. I didn't know what love was.

"Then take me back," he said with a hopeful smile on his face. "Fuck that new job. Fuck MTV. We can go back to old times. Everything was easy back then." I frowned, shaking my head. Yeah, life for him was pretty easy. All he did was sit at home, waiting for me to get out of work so I could wait on him until he went to bed. I was always frustrated with Johnny when he wouldn't leave Naomi, but I realized in that moment that my relationship with Van was just as bad. I needed to force him out of my life once and for all. So I just shouted the words that I knew would hurt him the worst. I shouted the truth.

"You hit me, Van!" I yelled. "You hit me! How could I ever take you back?!" After I spoke, I could see the angry beast inside Van let loose. Deep down, he hated what he did to me. He hated that he hit me and he hated that I brought it up. And he hated me. _He hated me._

"Oh, really?" Van said, stepping closer to me. He was only inches away from me as he spoke. "I saw the commercials for Jackass. It is funny when your new guy pushes you around, but I do it and I'm some kind of monster?" He pushed me against the wall. I fell to the floor, a few items falling beside me with a crash. It was happening again. I let it happen again. I cringed as Van spoke again.

"Is that funny, Al?" he said, kicking me in the ribs. I dry heaved, feeling like I was going to be sick Maybe I felt nauseas because of the pain, but really, I think it was because of the fact that I put myself in this situation again. It was all my fault.

"How about this?" Van added. Another kick landed in my stomach. It hurt terribly. But after a awhile I couldn't feel it anymore. I wasn't sure how much time had passed and I wasn't sure how many times he kicked me. It was like I wasn't even there any longer. I was gone. For all it mattered, I could have been dead. Maybe I would have been better off if I was.

I don't remember when Van left, but he did. I just laid on the floor, my eyes closed and my mind blank. I wondered when this would all be over. All the pain. The physical pain and the mental pain. The fear of Van. The fear of the paparazzi. The fear of someone finding out about Johnny and me. The stress of the show. The stress of life. I wished I could just go back in time to the night I trashed Jeff Tremaine's car. I wish I never did it. I wish I never went home and I never caught Van cheating on me. I wish I never left Queens. I wish I never let Solo walk home from work in the middle of the night. I wished I could start over. I wished I could change it all.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Getting up for work the next morning was close to impossible. Everything hurt. My arms and my legs were weak and my body was covered with bruises. I couldn't get a minute of sleep the night before, and consequently I my brain seemed to be out of whack. I could barely think straight. But I couldn't blame my shaken state on my lack of sleep. My thoughts kept flickering back to Van. Every time I saw one of the bruises on my arms I thought of him. Every time I felt pain in my limbs I thought of him. I couldn't stand the thoughts. I felt on edge and paranoid. I felt unsure of myself. It was terrible.

Before I left, I got a phone call from Johnny asking if I needed I ride to work. _Johnny. _I quickly lied, saying I already called a taxi. Usually, Johnny wouldn't have bought that excuse, but he must have heard the seriousness in my voice. He just said he would see me later and hung up. I don't know why I didn't want to get a ride from Johnny—I just didn't want to see him at all. I felt like I betrayed him. The way I let Van into my apartment—what was I thinking? It was like I was asking to get hit. Like I was asking for the pain. I could only imagine what everyone would think if they found out. I had spent all these years trying to convince people that I could take care of myself, and now look at me. I am letting some guy walk in and out of my life, treating me like shit. Hurting me. Ruining me. I was an idiot.

I wasn't sure where I stood with Johnny anymore. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. It was like I wasn't the same person as I was the day before. I still felt like the same girl, but it was like I was seeing everything from someone else's eyes. When I thought about dating Johnny, my mind jumped to all the bad things that could happen. _What if he is just as bad as all the other guys I dated? What if he is just like Van? What if he hurts me? What if I hurt him? _Thinking about it all made my stomach churn.

"Your crazy, Alex," I said before heading out the door of my apartment. Johnny would never hurt me. How could he? He was risking so much by dating me. He was risking his reputation and possibly even his job. But he was still doing it. He had to care about me. I scoffed at the idea. A man caring about me? That would be a first. My own father never cared about me. How could I expect some guy I worked with to care about me?

I could have called a taxi to pick me up like I told Johnny I did, but I decided to wait for a public bus. I knew I would be late for work, but who cared? What was Jeff going to do? Fire me? Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe this whole Jackass thing was more trouble than it was worth. The paparazzi and the gossip and the drama—it was all too much. And what was a gaining? MTV paid us practically nothing. I wasn't getting recognized on the street like I was so celebrity. All I was getting was a worse reputation than I already had.

After twenty minutes, a bus pulled up at the stop. I put a couple of bucks in a jar and stepped aboard. The bus was pretty much empty. A few people sat towards the front, so I instinctively went to the back. I didn't want to have to participate in any dull small talk. I didn't want to talk to anyone. So I just sat as far away from everyone, staring out the window. Everything was the same as it was the day before, but it looked different to me. The people milling across sidewalks outside seemed so much more pathetic and worthless. All of it seemed worthless. What was the point of life? Love? That is what everyone says, but what is love? Taking care of someone for years to have them stab you in the back? Getting cheated on? Getting hit? If love is all around us, then why haven't I ever seen it? My dad loved my mom, but he left her. My mom loved me, but I abandoned her. Naomi loved Johnny, but she cheated on him. Bam loves Missy, but he treats her like shit. Van loved me, but he hurt me. Is that love? If it was, than love was a burden. Maybe if I never loved anyone, I would never get hurt. Because this pain I was feeling was plain torture. I just wanted it to go away.

After about a half an hour, I broke from my deep train of thought. I looked around, realizing that the bus was now empty aside from myself and the driver. And I missed my stop. I sighed, sliding back farther in my seat. I guess I was going to be later to work than I thought. Oh well.

I sat on the bus for a few more hours. I missed my stop twice more, intentionally though. The fourth time the bus pulled up in front of the MTV office building, I finally got off. I stood up, silently walking off the bus. I wasn't worried about Jeff being mad at me for hindering filming. Jeff was the least of my problems. When I walked up to the building, I saw Johnny standing by the entrance, leaning against the side of the building. He smiled when he saw me. I felt anxious seeing him there, but it almost felt good. It wasn't a bitter anxious, but I lighthearted nervousness. It made me feel alive.

"Hey, Al," he said as I approached him. I wondered why he was standing in front of the building instead of sitting in Jeff's office like I assumed he'd be. "Where have you been?" I sighed, standing in front of him.

"Oh…uh…" I trailed off, trying to think up a lie. I didn't have the energy to make up something that made any sense, so I just told the truth. Well, sort of. "I didn't want to come in today," I said. "I stalled for a bit. I mean, most the guys are late every day." Johnny nodded, a smile on his face.

"We've all been there. But Jeff's really pissed," he said. "Thought I'd come wait out here for you. Give you a fair warning before you go in there. He is going to give you the third degree." I sighed, rubbing my eyes. I wasn't scared of Jeff. I didn't care if he yelled at me. I deserved it.

"Whatever," I groaned. I started walking towards the door, but Johnny grabbed my wrist. I quickly pulled away. It was an instinctive action. I felt silly pulling away from Johnny, but it was my first reaction when someone grabbed me. I could thank Van for that new trigger.

"What happened to your arm?" Johnny said, pointing at a bruise on my forearm. I bit my bottom lip, realizing I should have worn a jacket or something to cover that up. I put my hand over the bruise, rubbing it with my thumb.

"I don't know," I said. "Must have happened during filming yesterday." Johnny looked at me inquisitively. He didn't believe me. I knew he didn't. Filming yesterday wasn't too bad. It wasn't good, but it certainly wasn't bruise-worthy. I didn't take any hits or any falls. Everyone on set knew that. But Johnny didn't question me about. He had other questions for me.

"Are you okay, Alex?" he asked. I stared at him weakly. I wasn't okay. I was a lot worse than okay. I was terrible. I was falling apart and I didn't know how to put myself back together. I wished I could just tell him that. I would have loved to open to him about what Van did to me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I felt bad keeping things from Johnny—he didn't deserve it. But he didn't deserve to carry my emotional baggage either.

"I don't know," I breathed. Johnny looked at me for a long time. He looked right into my eyes, like he was seeing something I wasn't telling him. He sighted, putting his arms around me, pulling me into a quick hug. I thought the action would have felt awkward, but it didn't. I felt safe and comforted. .Just like always. I rested my head on his chest, the hurt in my chest quickly evaporating. He put his hand on the back of my head and I closed my eyes. I wished we could have stayed like that forever.

"Let's go in," Johnny said after a few moments. I nodded. I was already late enough. We walked silently up to Jeff's office. When I walked through the door, I wasn't surprised to see the guys lying around the office lazily and Jeff pounding away on his keyboard angrily. Probably dealing with some scheduling errors or something. But when he saw me, all his attention—and rage—was quickly redirected to me. The moment I saw the fury in his eyes, I knew I was in for it. I braced myself for the worst.

"Alex! Where the hell have you been?!" Jeff shouted. I didn't respond to him at first. I could have answered his question—I had been at my house, then I was on the bus, and now I was at the office—but I didn't think being a smartass was going to get me anywhere in that situation.

"Sorry, Jeff," I murmured. But he wasn't listening to me. He had a lot to say and he wasn't going to stop and listen to any of my excuses.

"This is our second wasted day of filming in a row, Al!" Jeff shouted. "We've got to stay on schedule!" Everything was about staying on schedule with him. He was a cool guy and a good friend, but when it came to anything that was work-related, he turned into such a strict asshole. I guess it is hard to be friends with your boss, especially when you are the newbie. And being the new cast member, I guess I didn't have the right to show up hours late. At least that is what Jeff thought.

"Oh, come on Jeff," Johnny said, trying to stick up for me. I turned to him, giving him a small smile. He didn't have to defend me—Jeff was still going to be mad either way. But it was still nice of Johnny to try. "It is just one day," he continued. Don't be such a hard ass about it."

"Just one day?" Jeff said. "Do you know what goes into one day of this show? I have locations rented out. That costs money. A lot of money. And if you didn't know, we don't have much of a budget. And I wouldn't like to waste the money we do have on lots we don't even get to use because our cast didn't show up!" I just stared at Jeff, not really listening to what he was saying. I didn't care about budgets or deadlines or appointments. I never cared about shit like that, and after what I had been through in the past twenty-four hours, I especially didn't.

"Well, we are all here now," Chris said, trying to smooth over the situation. "Let's just get to work." Jeff sighed, agreeing with Chris. Johnny put his arm around my shoulders in a strictly friendly way and I took a deep breath. I already knew that the day was going to drag on forever. And I was right. We drove to set, which was some warehouse, where Jeff had a bunch of horrendous stunts planned for us to do. Luckily, none of them where for me. A lot of the shooting was aimed at Bam and Steve and some of the other guys. Honestly, I wasn't even sure why the rest of us had to be there. Jeff said he wanted us to be on set everyday because he wanted to "define the cast". During the first season, a lot of people were on the show, but he said that this season, he wanted the same cast members to be on every episode. And Jeff was the boss, so I went when I wasn't needed.

After filming was over for the day, I was still feeling pretty spacey. I couldn't get out of my head. I was on set, filming with a bunch of my friends, but I was still trapped in my thoughts. Johnny noticed it and so did the rest of the guys. Jeff thought I was acting weird because of the way he blew up on me, but I told him that I was fine and we were cool. Jeff had the right to shout at me a little. I was fucking up his show. I was the one messing shit up, not him. I was glad that we worked things out and no feelings were hurt in the process, but I still felt pretty weird. And I was probably acting weird too. So when we got back to the office and the guys asked if I wanted to go out for some drinks, I don't think any of them were surprised to hear that I just wanted to go home. Even though they were expecting it, they still gave me hell about it.

"Oh, come on, Alex!" Steve shouted, trying to make me feel bad. "You've gotta come out. It's no fun unless everybody comes." Bullshit. As long as everyone got wasted, it would be fun. It didn't matter who was there. And besides, it didn't matter what Steve said, I wasn't going out.

"Sorry," I muttered, turning them down. "I'm just not in the mood." That was a lame excuse, but it was true. I was in the mood to go home and pass out on my couch. I didn't want to be thrown into another social situation tonight. I needed to be alone. And even though I told the guys this, they continued to beg. But I just shook my head, not listening to any of it.

"If you don't come voluntarily, I will personally drag your ass to the bar!" Bam said. The guys laughed at his statement. I smiled, even though I just wanted to leave without hearing anymore of this. But as I turned to go, Bam grabbed me, putting my arms behind my back so I couldn't get away. The guys laughed as Bam continued to speak. "Now you are going to come whether you want to or not," he joked. I knew he was just playing around, but I couldn't help but feel frantic and upset when I couldn't get away from him. It was like my first response was to defend myself and brace myself for pain. Did Van really have the big of an effect on me?

"Get off me," I hissed, trying to pull away from Bam. He just chuckled, tightening his grip on me. He probably thought I was just playing around, but I wasn't. _"Get your fucking hands off me!_" I shouted. Just like that, Bam released me, probably shocked by my sudden seriousness. But I didn't care what Bam thought. I didn't care what any of them thought. I stormed off, leaving a confused group of jackasses behind me. I was shaking with anxiety and frustration. I felt like I was going to throw up. I felt so stupid. Bam was my friend. What did I think he was going to do to me? Hit me? Not every guy was like Van. Why couldn't I believe that?

I rushed out of the office buildings_, _stopping once I got to the parking lot. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted someone to talk to. I didn't know what I wanted. All I knew for sure was that I wanted all these rigid feelings that I had to go away. But I didn't know if they ever would.

After a few moments, Johnny came running after me. "Alex! Wait up!" he shouted, following out to the parking lot. I took a deep breath before turning to him. He looked at me with puzzled eyes. "What is with you today?" he asked accusingly. Why did he care what was wrong with me? Why did he follow me out here? Was he trying to make me even more frustrated and confused? Or did he honestly care about me?

"I just don't want people grabbing me, is that okay?" I said hoarsely, tearing my eyes away from Johnny's. He was reading me again. He was staring into my eyes, looking for the answers I wasn't giving him. I hated it. I didn't want him to know about all the things that were going wrong in my life. Because if he knew, things would be different between us. He wouldn't see me the same way. He would think I was weak and worthless and pathetic. I just wanted Johnny to see me for who I really was, not the hollow shell Van was trying to make me.

"What are you trying to hide from me?" Johnny said, shaking his head. "Coming in to work late, flipping out on Bam, being quiet—that isn't you, Alex. Something is wrong. Why won't you tell me? Because you can tell me anything." I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. Here he was, telling me all he wanted me to do was be honest with him. And I couldn't give that to him. I hated myself for keeping secrets from him, but I couldn't come clean about this. I couldn't tell him about what Van did to me. It would only make things worse.

"I'm not hiding anything," I said. Johnny looked disappointed after I said that. The sad look in his eyes killed me. I was the one hurting him. I knew I would hurt him. I cared about him too much to keep hurting him like this. Maybe dating him wasn't right. Maybe it was more trouble than it was worth. Because all I wanted was for him to be happy. And looking at him in that moment, I knew he wasn't happy in the least bit. He was miserable.

"I need to think about things," I said. "I need to go." Johnny stared at me blankly.

"What do you need to think about?" he said urgently, stepping closer to me. "Us?" I shook my head, but Johnny continued to speak. "Is that what's bothering you, Alex? Are you worried about our ool

"No," I said. He exhaled and I assumed that I had offered him some kind of relief with my single word. I wasn't sure if I was lying to him by saying I wasn't second guessing our relationship. I wanted to be with Johnny more than anything. He made me feel so much better when I was down. When I talked to him, it was like nothing else mattered. How could I second guess the feelings I got when he touched me? But I didn't want to drag him into my screwed up life. Dating him seemed selfish—like I was throwing him into my unpleasant life. I didn't know what was right. But just as I thought that, Johnny put his arms around me once again. And I felt safe. And I knew it was right and I had nothing to worry about. As long Johnny was here, everything would be alright.

"You can talk to me, Alex," he whispered, stroking my back. I knew he would listen to me when I was ready to talk, but I wasn't ready. I just wasn't.

"I know I can," I replied, pulling away from him. That was all I could say. That was all I wanted to say. I began walking away from him, preparing to flag down a taxi. But before I left, I shouted to Johnny, "Tell Bam that I'm sorry for the freak out." Johnny nodded. And as I walked off to get a cab, he didn't follow me.


	10. She Will Be Loved (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Ten: She Will Be Loved (Johnny)_

I stood in the parking lot, a grimace on my face. I was unhappy with how my conversation with Alex ended. It was such a cold interaction. It was almost like she was there talking to me, but not listening to word I said. Like she was hollow. I sighed as I walked back into the office. When I got there, I found all the guys still sitting around, discussing what happened with Alex. I wished they would stop. Sure, she kind of flipped out on Bam for no apparent reason, but couldn't they cut her some slack? She was working from sunrise to sundown, every day. She probably wasn't used to it yet. So what if she was a little tense? I was lenient with her behavior—I mean, she hadn't been working on the show for that long—but I didn't think the guys were going to be as compassionate as I was.

"Well, what the fuck is wrong with her, Knoxville?" said Bam as I walked into the office. I shrugged, shaking my head. But they all stared at me like I was withholding some information from them or something. Truthfully, I had no idea what was going on with Alex. I knew that something was bothering her and she was keeping it from me, but other than that, I didn't know a thing. The guys were expecting me to know everything that was going on with her. As far as the guys knew, Alex and I had grown to be really close friends over the past couple of weeks. I was her friend and more, but no matter how close I was to Al, I still didn't know why she freaked out earlier.

"I'm not sure," I replied bluntly. Bam sighed, rolling his eyes. "I think she is just stressed out about work or something," I continued, hoping to give a believable answer. "She's probably still adjusting to this lifestyle." It was a plausible idea. The Jackass schedule was a strenuous one. Working straight through the day for weeks at a time wasn't something a person got used to quickly. But I knew that there was something else going on with Alex. And I was pretty sure it was something much worse than being stressed at work.

"She's probably on her period or something," Bam laughed. The guys laughed, but I ignored his comment. Immaturity was never something I thought of as a bad thing, but Bam's pettiness when it came to women was almost too much for me to handle. Luckily, Jeff began speaking before Bam could shout out another stupid statement.

"Do you think she is going to be here tomorrow?" Jeff interjected, a concerned look on his face. I already knew where he was going with this one, but I let him keep going. "Because I had some bits planned for her," he continued, "and if she isn't going to be here—"

"I don't know, Jeff," I said, cutting him off. I understood that this show was important to him—it was important to all of us—but wasn't there a point where it really didn't matter that much? If Alex was in some sort of trouble, than I could care less if she was on set or not. All of the people that worked on the show were friends—they were like family to me. They came before filming. As I thought about it, Bam took me off guard with a question.

"You still chasing her, Knox?" he asked. I was taken aback for a moment, but I tried to maintain my cool façade. If I was going to be keeping my relationship with Alex a secret, I was going to have to learn how to stay calm when somebody asked me about her.

"Who, Alex?" I said, trying to act indifferent towards the whole situation. I guess I took _too calm _of an approach because Bam began laughing, shaking his head.

"No, I meant Ehren," Bam snickered. "Yeah, Alex you asswipe. You've been after her for weeks. You still at it or what?" The guys laughed and I did to, trying to play it off. Had my attraction to Alex been that apparent all along? I mean, sure I liked her, but _chasing _her? That just seemed desperate. But then again, when it came to Alex, I was pretty desperate. _Ladies man_ seemed to fly out the window, only to be quickly replaced by _clumsy stuttering idiot_. I guess I wasn't much of a charmer after all.

"We're really good friends," I tried to explain to Bam. "We've got an understanding, that's all." That wasn't a complete lie. I mean, I was really good friends with Al. And I did understand her. I wasn't lying to the guys, I just wasn't telling them the whole truth. It wasn't that I didn't want them to know that Alex and I were dating—I could have cared less if they knew or what they thought about it—but Al didn't want me to say anything. And if keeping us a secret for a while would make her feel more comfortable, than I was willing to lie—or not tell the whole truth—to Bam and all of the other guys.

"Well if you understand her so well, then help us understand why she is acting like so weird," Steve said. I sighed. I wish I could tell them what was going on with her, but I didn't know anymore than they did. I hated that she was hiding something from me. I wanted to know what was bothering her.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "But I can try to find out." Maybe if I tried to talk to her again she would open up to me. I could drive over to her place. It was a bit of a drive, but if she was ready to talk to me, it would be worth it. If I could just get her alone, she would be honest with me. I knew she would. "I think I am going to go talk to her," I said. The guys had mixed reactions.

"You're going to follow her home in the middle of the night, just to see how she is doing?" Bam laughed. "I think you are crossing onto more-than-friends territory. I've never seen you work so hard to get some ass, Knoxville." I glared at him. Maybe there was more to relationships than getting ass—wait, even I can't believe I just thought that.

"I care about her, okay?" I said, trying to defend myself. "She's my friend. She has been through a lot of shit in her life. And I really worry about her sometimes." Bam raised an eyebrow after I said that.

"Well, what's she been through?" he asked inquisitively. I mentally kicked myself for even opening my mouth in the first place. This was a can of worms that I shouldn't have opened. I couldn't tell them about all the things Alex confessed to me about her past. She told me things about her family that I knew she wouldn't want everyone to know. And if she did want the Jackass cast to know about her personal life, she could tell them. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't betray her like that.

"I can't, man," I said, shaking my head. "She'd kill me," I added with a light laugh. No, she probably wouldn't kill me, but it was a lot easier to tell the guys that than to say I didn't want to hurt Alex's feelings. They already weren't buying that I was content with being her friend. I didn't need to add fuel to the fire.

"Aw, whatever Knox," Bam said with a dramatic sigh. All the guys liked Alex—especially Steve. They were all friends with her. They all thought she was as awesome as I thought she was, but they couldn't understand her like I did. They didn't know her like I did. They probably wouldn't get it when I said I needed to go see Alex in the middle of the night to see how she was doing. It didn't matter what was going on between her and I. If we were friends or enemies or boyfriend and girlfriend, it didn't matter. I would always care about her. She had been dealt such a shitty hand in life. She deserved to have someone to care about her, even if it was just some jackass she worked with.

I left the office building at about eleven o'clock at night. Even though the guys told me I shouldn't, I still found myself driving to Alex's place instead of my own. I had this bad feeling that whatever was bothering Alex was worse than she was making it out to be. And the only way to find out was to go see her and hope she would talk.

When I got to her apartment building, I quickly parked and walked up the stairs to her apartment. I knocked on her door anxiously, hoping she would open up. After a few minutes passed, I thought she was asleep or maybe she wasn't home. I grabbed the door knob, giving it a turn and found that the door wasn't even locked. That was odd. I knew it probably wasn't polite to just walk right into Al's apartment, but I couldn't help myself. There was definitely something weird was going on. I had to find out what it was.

"Alex?" I said as I stepped into her place, closing the door behind me. I looked around and saw her lying on the couch, just staring at the ceiling. She was holding a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels by the neck. She wasn't asleep, but it was like she was in a trance. I don't even think she noticed that I walked into her apartment. She looked so miserable, lying there with a blank expression on her face. I walked over to her, hovering over the couch.

"Alex?" I repeated, nudging her gently. She looked at me with glazy eyes and I already knew where this was going. She was wasted. And coming over here was a waste of my time. I sighed. "You okay, Al?" I said, unsure if she was coherent enough to understand what I was saying. Apparently she was; she seemed to wake up from the trance she was in after I spoke to her.

"J-Johnny!" she shouted, sitting up. She took another swig from her bottle before struggling to stand up. I tried to help her up and she dropped the bottle to the floor, causing alcohol to pour all over the floor. I quickly grabbed Alex before she fell over. She laughed as I steadied her in my arms. She was beyond plastered, and hanging out with a drunk person is no fun if you are sober. So I just did my best to get Alex to settle down before she fell on her ass or something.

"Sit down, Al," I said. She ignored my comment, rambling on about something completely incoherent. I groaned putting my arms around her waist, trying to get her to sit down. But as I did so, her face contorted with pain and she pushed away from me. I immediately released her, assuming I did something to hurt her. "What's wrong?" I asked as Alex rubbed her side. All I did was put my arms around her. Why would that have been painful?

"Nothing," she groaned, laying back down on the couch. "I feel perfect." It was easy to spot her sarcasm when she was drunk. But I knew there was something wrong. I wanted Alex to talk to me, but there was no way we were going to have a heart-to-heart while she was shitfaced. I just sighed as she grew silent, falling into a drunken slumber. I sat down on the foot of the couch, watching Alex's chest rise and fall with every breath she took. Sadly enough, I realized that her face didn't look peaceful or at ease, but pained. I wondered why she was in such a great amount of pain. I wondered why she pulled away from me when I touched her side. It seemed like the ladder would be pretty easy to find out now that she was asleep. I leaned forward, gently tugging the hem of her shirt up. She didn't stir as I did so. But my jaw dropped when I lifted her shirt, revealing massive bruises trailing up her waist.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, even though there was no one there to hear me. Her skin was multicolored, covered in an array of bruises. I softly grazed her skin with my finger tips, barely touching the surface of her badly bruised skin. But as I did so, she twitched, pulling away from me again. She didn't wake up, though.

I stared at her, just as confused as I was alarmed. The bruises. The lying. The mood swings. All of it was wrong. There was no way she got that bruise at work. She had to be hiding something from me. Something was going on—something really bad. But she wouldn't let me help her. _Why wouldn't she let me help her…?_

I stood up, not sure what to do next. Just leave? Wait until she wakes up? Neither option felt right. I decided to stick around for a little longer, just in case something happened. I paced back and forth around Alex's apartment, having nothing else to do but walk around and worry. So, that's what I did. After about ten minutes or so, I heard a dull buzzing and got distracted from my troublesome thoughts. I dismissed the noise, but after a few more minutes passed and the buzzing didn't stop, it just got annoying. I walked around Al's apartment, looking for the source of the incessant noise. Finally, I realized it was her phone. I stared at the phone and saw that she had seven missed calls. Seven seemed like a whole lot of calls, but what did I know? The only people that called me were Jeff and my mom. Sure, I was curious to see who was calling Al, but I didn't want to snoop through her phone. I just wanted it to stop buzzing. So while I tried to silence the phone, I _accidently_—okay, maybe purposely—played her messages. I don't know why I was so interested. Honestly, I was expecting to hear a bunch of messages left by random telemarketers. But I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Alex, it's Van," said the voice on the answering machine. Van…wasn't that Alex's ex-boyfriend's name? Why was Van calling her? I felt a jolt of jealousy, but I quickly dismissed the feeling. I knew then that I probably shouldn't have started listening to these damn messages. But I couldn't stop now. I had to know why he was calling her. So I kept listening.

"I've got to talk to you. I'm really sorry about what happened last night," Van continued. "I didn't mean it. I don't know what came over me. I just need to see you. Call me back, okay? Bye." _I just need to see you. _What kind of crap was that? She dumped him. Couldn't he take a hint? I quickly realized that I was getting riled up over practically nothing. But I couldn't help but wonder what happened between Van and Alex the other night that would prompt him to call her with an apology. Before I could think to hard about it, the next message began to play.

"Hey, Alex." It was Van again. "I am just calling to see if you got my message. See if you wanted to talk to me. Maybe. Hopefully you accepted my apology. I need you, Alex. I really do. I can't—" I hit a button on the phone and deleted the message before it could finish. This guy had to be a real dumbass if he thought calling his ex multiple times in a row was going to get her to take him back. But I had to give it to him—he was persistent. The next four messages were all Van, just calling and asking Alex to talk to him or take him back. It was funny in a pathetic way. But by the time I played the seventh message, Van became less passive and patient.

"Alex, pick up the goddamn phone," Van spoke bitterly. I raised an eyebrow, a little shocked by the change in Van's tone. "I'm sick of talking to the fucking answering machine! What do you want from me? I just want to talk to you. Do you want me to come over there and talk to you in person? I don't think you want that…" I grimaced at the way Van was yelling. It was like he was threatening her. And suddenly, it all clicked. He _was _threatening her. He was threatening to come see her in person. He was threatening to—_to hit her._

"Don't think that because you got a fancy job with MTV anything is going to change between us," Van said on the phone. "You are still mine. You will always be mine. So quit fucking around and playing games because I am getting really tired of your bullshit. And when I see you on the television with all those guys, I get really pissed off. And you know what happens when I get pissed off." My stomach turned. "I hope I am clear, Alex. Call me back soon. Because I don't want to have to do something that we'll both regret." The message ended.

I was shaking. My mind was spinning. I couldn't think straight. I didn't know what to think. All I knew was that I wanted to find him. I would kill that fucking bastard. I'd find him and I would beat the shit out of him. I should have done it the first night I met him. I should have known that night that he was hurting her. The way he cornered her in the parking lot. The way he raised his voice to her. It was obvious that he was mistreating her. How blind could I have been? Guilt ate away at me. I could have stopped this weeks ago. I could have helped her. But now here we all were, Alex bruised and battered, passed out on the couch, getting wasted to deal with the pain of being someone's human punching bag. My chest felt tight.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I was vibrating with anger. Alex was hurting and there was nothing I could do about it. The person that hurt her was out there somewhere and there was nothing I could do about that, either. I was useless. I hated the feeling. What kind of man hit a woman? What kind of guy calls a girl and tells her that he loves her, just to call back and say he would beat her if she didn't talk to him soon enough? My stomach churned just thinking about it. I just wanted to help Alex. But I didn't know if I could.

I walked over to where Alex was lying on the couch. Her eyes were closed tightly. It wasn't fair. Hadn't she been through enough? She endured enough death and pain in her life. Now this? She was so strong. Probably stronger than I would ever know.

I sat down on the foot of the couch, staring blankly at Alex. I had initially planned on leaving before the night was over, but I couldn't now. What if that scumbag made good on his threat and came over here? I couldn't let Alex get hurt again. So I sat there, watching her, wondering what she must have been going through. And though I never thought it would happen, I finally feel asleep during sometime during the night, slumped over on the couch next to Alex.

It was about six in the morning when Alex shook me awake. I jumped, quickly remembering why I had spent the night on Al's couch. She laughed lightly at my reaction. "What are you doing over here?" she said, rubbing her eyes. I yawned, rubbing my neck which was hurting from the awkward position I had slept in. I looked at Alex, who seemed…normal. She seemed absolutely fine. If I didn't know any better, I would have suspected there was a thing wrong with her. But I couldn't pretend nothing happened. I couldn't pretend I didn't know about what Van did to her.

"Where did all those bruises come from, Alex?" I asked quickly. I probably should have waited before bombarding her with questions, but I couldn't help myself. After I spoke, Alex looked at my with wide eyes. I knew she was taken off guard by my question, but she gave a small smile, trying to laugh off what I had said. I was disappointed by her reaction.

"I told you, at work," she replied with a smile. "Why are you acting so weird?" I sighed. Why was she lying? I just wanted her to be honest with me. She had no reason to hide anything from me. I wanted her to open up to me.

"Tell me the truth, Alex," I spoke plainly. "Please. I know that didn't happen at work." She stared at me with fearful eyes. I knew. Her secret was out and she was terrified. Those weren't my intentions at all. I didn't want her to be scared of me. I wanted her to feel comfortable around me, but obviously she wasn't. Alex stood up, shaking her head, distancing herself from me.

"I _did_ tell you the truth, Johnny," she lied. I wished she would stop lying. I couldn't help her if she kept hiding things from me. I wanted to make sure she was safe, but I couldn't do that if she kept lying to me. But if something happened to her and I could have stopped it, I don't know what I would do. I wanted Alex to know that, but she wouldn't have listened to a word I said. She turned away from me, marching off defensively.

"I heard the messages," I said reluctantly. Alex froze mid-step. I didn't want to fess up and say that I had listened to her voicemail, but it seemed to be the only way to get her to listen to me. "I heard what Van said," I continued. "I know what he is doing to you." She took a deep breath before turning to face me. Her face was pale and she looked like she was going to be sick. But there was still a spark in her eye. A spark of anger.

"You don't know anything," she hissed. "I haven't seen Van in weeks. I…I don't know what you're talking about!" I grimaced, unhappy with her reaction. This wasn't how I planned all of this go down. She stormed off to her bedroom, obviously frustrated with me. I followed her. I knew this wasn't going to be easy. Her walls were up. She was defensive. But she didn't have to be.

Alex stopped once she arrived in her bedroom. There was nowhere else to go. She just stood there, staring at the ground. I walked up beside her, putting my hand on her back. "Look at yourself," I said, turning her towards the mirror. "Look at what he did to you!" I didn't mean to shout at her, but it was like I couldn't get through to her.

"Stop it!" she shouted back. "Just stop!" She looked at me with hurt eyes. I wished I could have stopped, but I couldn't. I was doing this for her own good. She had to face this. I put my arms around her, pulling her in front of the mirror. She shouted at me, telling me to let go of her. But I wouldn't.

"Just stop Johnny!" she shouted as I held her close to me, facing the mirror. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see herself.

"Look," I whispered to her. "Open your eyes and look." She was shaking in my arms, no longer fighting to get away. I could only imagine the pain she was feeling. She didn't even want to look at herself. I held her in front of the mirror like that for a long time, but finally she took a deep breath, opening her eyes. She just stared at her reflection for awhile. The bruises on her arms. The tears in her eyes. She just stared. And then she broke down. Tears started to stream down her face, her cheeks red with frustration. She pushed me away from her and I let her go.

"I don't need you to protect me, Johnny!" she shouted, struggling to speak through her tears. "I don't need you to pick out my flaws and make me face them. I can protect myself!" She stepped away from me, shaking her head. "I don't need you to try and fix me!"

"I'm not trying to fix you, Al," I said. "I'm trying to _help _you."

"I don't need your help!" she yelled. "I…I'm fine! I'm fine…" She looked down at her black and blue arms. And finally, she saw. She really saw what he did to her. And it was like a dam broke inside her. I saw the defensive glint in her eye disappear. And all that was left was hurt. She looked up at me, the tears still falling.

"This isn't your fault," I said. She stepped closer to me, looking smaller than I had ever seen her. I could only imagine how she felt. Defeated. Overwhelmed. Crushed. She just fell into my arms, heaving with tears.

"I-I'm so scared," she whispered in a barely audible voice. I was scared too. I was scared for her.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The rest of the day melted away at a sluggishly slow rate. Alex didn't want to talk. She wanted to go to work, but there was no way I was going to let her go. Our work week was already fucked; there was really no reason to go. And if Jeff had a problem with it, he could shout at me, not Al. But there was no way I was going to let her go to work after the morning she had. No way.

After about an hour of silence and meaningless small talk, Alex finally started to open up. I could tell it was hard for her, but wouldn't it be hard for anyone? "Van was never controlling," she said, sitting on the couch. I sat next to her, listening as she spoke. "He was always easy going. If anything, I was the controlling one. I was always working and he was always sitting around doing nothing. But when I found out he was cheating on me, he changed. It was like he became a different person. Or maybe that was who he was all along, I just didn't see it…" she trailed off, fidgeting nervously and staring at her hands. I laced my fingers with her, offering her some solace in my touch.

"I'm not good at this," she said, gripping my hand tightly. "Being weak. I feel like…like nothing. I want to be in control of my own life. And sitting here and crying about it…it's not me. When something is wrong, I'm not the kind of person that sits around and does nothing. If something's wrong then I am going to go fix it. But this time, I can't." She sighed. Her eyes were puffy and she looked tired. I knew she wanted me to talk. She wanted me to say something just so she didn't have to say anything. But I wanted her to open up. I just stroked her hand, silently waiting for her to continue. And after a few minutes, she did.

"He just grabbed me the first time. I didn't think much of it. I had talked over him and he flipped out," she said, gripping my hand tighter. "He was mad. I was mad. I didn't like that he put his hands on me, but I thought it was over. I had just caught him cheating on me. I thought he was going to be out of my life forever after that night. But I guess I was wrong." I sighed, feeling sick as she described how this bastard used her. How he hurt her. I tried my best to hide my angry feelings. I wanted Alex to have this time to say whatever she wanted. I didn't want to start shouting about what a piece of shit Van was, because I didn't know if I would have been able to stop.

"The second time, it was sort of my fault," Alex said. I sighed, shaking my head. I couldn't believe Alex actually thought she could have done anything to be beaten like an animal. But before I could tell her she absolutely wrong, she started to explain herself. "He thought we were still together. I told him he was delusional and if he didn't pack his shit, I would do it for him. And when he didn't start packing, I grabbed some of his stuff and tossed it out the window." She laughed, a slightly sadistic smile on her face. "But then he pinned me to the wall in my bedroom. Called me a bitch. Slapped me." She sighed. "But I did throw his stuff out—"

"A man never hits a woman," I interjected. "I don't care what you did. That prick shouldn't have laid a hand on you no matter what you did."

"I spit in his face," Alex said bluntly.

"Good for you," I replied. _That's my girl_. If I ever saw that guy, he was going to wish all I did was spit in his face.

Alex continued to tell me the gritty details of her relationship with her ex-boyfriend. "The other night, I don't know what happened," she recalled. "He came over and I just let him in. I don't know why, but I did. When I saw him, I felt so small. Like I couldn't tell him to go away. So he just pushed his way in. And I was so scared. But I let him in." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "He found out I was on Jackass. About MTV and all that. And he was so angry. He thought that I wouldn't take him back because of the show. So I told him the truth. Said I was seeing someone." She sighed. "I shouldn't have said that. It made him really angry."

"What did he do?" I asked, holding her hand tightly. She took a deep breath.

"He saw you and me in the magazines together. He asked me if I was dating you. He said I—" she stopped, a pained look on her face. "He said I was probably _screwing _you to get on TV. It's so embarrassing. Telling you all this." She had no reason to be embarrassed over some false assumptions her ex-boyfriend made. I told her that, but I knew she was still ashamed when she told me about what he did to her. "He said that if I thought having guys push me around on Jackass was funny, then I should like it when he does it, too. So he pushed me down. And he kicked me. Over and over and over…"

"Jesus," I mumbled.

"When Bam grabbed me after work, I kind of flipped out," Alex continued. "I don't really know why. After what Van did, I was just a little…jumpy, I guess. I didn't want to be touched, you know?" I nodded my head. It all made sense now. I would have never guessed what was going on with her. Not in a million years would I have thought Alex was being…_abused._

"I can't believe Van did this to you," I said, shaking my head. "Hitting you and kicking you. I can't even imagine—"

"It really wasn't that bad," she said. It was like she was trying to make me feel better when really I should have been consoling her. "I mean physically. I felt like I wasn't even there," she continued. "I was pretty numb by the end of it. But it was so degrading. I dumped him. I told him we were done. I told him I never wanted to see him again. But he can just walk in and out of my life whenever he wants to. He can treat me like trash. He can beat me. And I can't do anything."

"That's not true, Alex," I said. "You can stop him. You can call the police." She actually laughed after I said that. I raised an eyebrow and she explained.

"Calling the police in East LA is about useless," she said, shaking her head. "There are gangs all over the place. You think they are going to drop their shit and come to some girl's apartment because her ex hit her a few times? Nope. Unless someone is dying, police aren't going to give you the time of day. And even if they did, they would probably tell me I deserved. The police are just as corrupt as everyone else in this town." She seemed pretty decided on the matter. The police weren't getting involved. "Even if I had an actual case against Van, I wouldn't want to take it anywhere. I just want it to be over. Getting the police involved would just prolong the whole ordeal. And now that I am on Jackass, every gossip magazine would have stories about Van and I, and every talk show would be reporting about me. And when Van came over here, he threatened to sell stories to magazines." She grimaced.

"Stories?" I asked. "Stories about you?" She nodded weakly. "About what?" I said.

"Anything he wants," she mused. "Maybe my fucked up family. Maybe that little altercation at the bar. He can tell them whatever he wants. It doesn't have to be true. As long as it is somewhat interesting, some magazine will pick up the story. It's a win-win for Van. He gets to smear my name across the floor while making cash. And he doesn't even have to lift a finger. The tabloids will do all the work for him…" Alex sighed, shaking her head.

"He can't—" I started, but I stopped. Because he could. He could do whatever he wanted to. How screwed up was this industry? Someone can make up any lie and print in a magazine. And there was nothing anyone could do about it. "I don't know what to say, Al," I said. She shrugged. I wished there was something I could do for her. I really did.

"I didn't want anyone to know anything about me," Alex started. "That is why I moved here. To get away from all that shit. I guess I just trust people too easily. I trusted Van. I told him about my life. And then it backfires on me, And now with the…_abuse._" She seemed to choke on her words, but she managed to continue. "I can't imagine everyone finding out. I didn't even want you to know about this." She looked at me with hurt eyes.

"I'm sorry for getting involved," I said. "But I had to. I can't let you get hurt again. I won't let it happen again. And even if it meant you hating me for the rest of your life, I would rather have you hate me than have you get hit by some bastard." It was true. I knew that Alex would be angry if I made her open up about what happened between Van and her, but I knew I had to do it. I couldn't let it slide.

"Don't apologize," Alex said. "I want to…I want to thank you. I'm glad this happened. I'm glad all this happened _with you_. I feel…safe." I smiled after she said that. All I wanted was for her to feel safe. I didn't want her to have to worry about getting hurt anymore. Even though she didn't want to be protected, I wanted her to know that I would do anything to keep her out of harm's way.

"I don't know why you went out of your way to help me like this," Alex added, shaking her head, "but I am really glad you did." I sighed. She still didn't get it. I looked her in the eye before I started explaining it to her.

"I did it because I care about you, Alex," I answered seriously. "You are really important to me. And you have no idea how much you've helped me." She looked confused so I began to clarify. "If it wasn't for you," I began, "I would probably still be with Naomi. I'd probably still be engaged to her." Making me realize that marrying Naomi would be a huge mistake was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me, but Alex shook her head graciously.

"No you wouldn't," she denied. "You dumped her because she cheated on you. That had nothing to do with me."

"I would have taken her back," I said honestly. "I almost did take her back. But you told me I was too good for her. And I don't know if that is true, but you did show me that there were better girls out there." She looked away from me, a shy smile on her face. "I thought I would hate Naomi after what she did to me, but honestly, I don't. I feel bad for her. She wanted to get back together, but I know we aren't right for each other. There is someone that is a better match for me." Alex laughed.

"Oh really?" she said, smiling. I missed that smile. I was happy to see it again.

"Really," I replied. "She isn't afraid to tell me when I'm acting like an asshole and she balances out my cockiness quite well." Alex smiled. "And she's is just as crazy as I am."

"You mean she's just as stupid as you are," Alex said. I shook my head.

"No, she's not stupid. I am, but she's not," I insisted. "She's really smart. And she is gorgeous and funny and talented. I don't know why she would waste her time with a guy like me. She could do much better…" Alex sighed, still smiling.

"Oh, please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Compliments aren't flattering if you can tell that they're outright lies." I grimaced.

"I'm not lying, Al," I said. "I'm lucky to have a girl like you." She smiled and I put my arms around her, careful not to press down on any of her bruises. "All the girls in this town are so fake," I continued. "Actually, everyone in this town is fake. You don't know who you can trust. I thought I could trust Naomi, and look where that got me. But I trust you, Kidd." She smiled.

"I trust you too, Clapp," she said, looking up at me. "Something about you and me. We just work well together." I smiled, happy to hear her say that. "Laura said we should get together." I laughed. Keeping everyone in the dark about my relationship was challenging at first, but now it was just kind of funny. Sometimes, it was hard—like when Steve and Bam talk about how they would bang Alex if they had the chance. When that happens, it makes me want to castrate both of them, but I have to stay composed and pretend I have no emotional connections to her. But there were a lot of good thing about keeping your relationship a secret from your friends. Like making out with Alex in an empty office when we were at work. That risk of getting caught made me feel like a teenager again. I had no complaints.

"Bam asked if I was still chasing you," I said. Alex laughed.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"I said we had an understanding. Said we were really good friends," I told her. "That's not a total lie. I mean, we are really good friends." She smiled. "What they don't know can't hurt them, right?"

"I hate making you lie to them," she said, still smiling.

"No you don't," I said. "You could give a shit about lying to any of them." She frowned, but I just laughed, pulling her closer to me. "I don't mind lying. It keeps things…_interesting_."

"Things have been interesting enough for me," Alex said. "I just want everything to be normal."

"Well, considering you are only weeks away from your first MTV premier, I don't think your life is going to be normal for a while," I said. Alex groaned. I was about to tell her that MTV premiers weren't that bad—the after party was usually killer—but the phone rang, stopping me mid-sentence. I instantly assumed the worst: _Van. _I looked at Alex and I could tell she was thinking the same thing. She gripped my arm tightly, looking at me with desperate eyes. Realizing that she was showing her fearful feelings, she stood up, shaking her head.

"I'll…go get that," she said. I stood up beside her, shaking my head.

"Let me," I said. She raised an eyebrow, trying to look like she didn't know what I was talking about. It was her apartment, her phone, her problem. But her problems were my problems now. "Sit down," I said. "If that is Van calling, I want to deal with him." I was almost hoping it was that prick calling, because I had a few choice words for him.

I walked over to the phone, picking it up. Alex looked at me anxiously. But it wasn't Van on the other end. It was Jeff. "Hey Alex," he said. "It's Jeff. How are you doing?" I smiled at Al.

"Hey Jeff," I said, speaking loudly so Alex would know who I was speaking to. She looked relieved. "It's Johnny," I said into the phone. Jeff laughed on the other line.

"Enjoying the end of your sleepover with Alex?" he questioned. I laughed nervously, shaking my head.

"No," I said. "I called Alex this morning to see if she needed a ride to work. She told me she was feeling really sick so I decided to swing by and see if she was okay. She's feeling pretty down, so I told her not to come in to work. And I thought I should stay with her, in case something happened…" Alex laughed quietly, listening as i spun this elaborate lie. Jeff laughed too.

"In case something happened?" Jeff said. "Sounds like a pretty complicated way to spend time with a chick. She must be pretty special." I rolled my eyes. If Jeff only knew. "You should tell her how you feel, man," he continued to say. "Because if you don't, someone else will get her—"

"We're just friends," I lied. "Just friends…" I eyed Alex as I spoke, who was enjoying listening to me tell lies to my boss.

"Whatever. It's probably for the best. I mean, Steve might murder you if you started dating Alex," Jeff said, referencing Steve's obvious crush on Alex. I laughed. "But anyway, I assumed she was going to be out of it today because of how she was acting yesterday, so I made some backup plans. Tell her I hope she feels better. And all the guys miss her a lot." I smiled.

"What about me?" I asked. "Do all the guys miss me?" Jeff started cracking up.

"Uh, sure," Jeff said. I sighed. "But you better get your ass into work tomorrow," Jeff continued. "You know, if you aren't too busy _taking care _of Alex. Because based on how she was acting yesterday, I think she needs someone to _take care _of her…"

"What part of _just friends _don't you understand?" I asked.

"The part where you have a penis and she doesn't," Jeff said with a laugh. I was about to protest but Jeff just spoke over me. "But it doesn't matter. I never understand you complex relationships with the opposite sex. And it's none of my business, anyway. Do your thing. But unless someone is dying, you better be at work tomorrow, okay?"

"Alrighty," I replied. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone, looking up at Alex who was smiling at me. "What are you smiling about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. She blinked, thinking for a moment.

"I don't know," she said quietly. I walked over to wear she was seated on the couch. "I was really bummed yesterday. But now I'm…I'm happy." She smiled again. "I'm really happy."

"I have that effect on women," I said casually, putting my arm around her shoulders. Alex rolled her eyes, but rested her head against my shoulder.

"You are so conceited," she laughed. "You're so…_you._" I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but I decided to take it as one. Being compared to Johnny Knoxville had to be one of the best compliments in the world, right? I chuckled while thinking about it. After a few moments, I leaned in, taking the moment of silence as an opportunity to kiss her. She held on to me, matching my aggressiveness. After a few moments, we parted. Alex had a concerned look on her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked, staring at her.

"Nothing," she said. "It's just…what if this isn't right?" I looked at her oddly. _What if this isn't right? _What kind of question was that?

"I don't know," I said. "I never really thought about." She nodded. "How can this be wrong, though? If we both feel it, then how couldn't it be right?" That was a pretty convincing argument if you ask me. But Alex still didn't seem satisfied.

"I'm just—you're just...I just don't want to hurt you," she explained. I stared at her, a puzzled look on my face. "Pulling you into this mess," she continued. "I shouldn't be dragging you into my life. Especially right now. Getting you involved in all of this seems…selfish." I shook my head.

"You're not dragging me anywhere, Kidd," I said. "No matter what, you are going to be my friend. I am always going to be here for you. I would be involved with your life whether we were dating or not. And besides, I'm here willingly. I wouldn't trade this for anything. So don't feel selfish."

"But I'm nothing like Naomi," she said seriously. "I'm probably not like any of the girls you have dated. Naomi—she's like the cheerleader. And I'm like…the high school delinquent." I laughed at her comparison.

"I don't want another Naomi," I said. "I left her because I got sick of cheerleaders. I want a change. A challenge, even." She laughed. If anything, Alex was definitely going to be a challenge. "I just want you, Al," I said. Wasn't that enough?

"But you don't know me yet," she said. That seemed impossible. She told me everything. Her family. Her childhood. Van. I thought I knew it all. But apparently, there was more that I didn't know about. "You think I'm a lot better than I actually am," Alex said. "I've got a lot of…hang-ups. Some bad habits. I just don't want to mess this up. I mess a lot of things up…but I want this to work."

"It will work," I said. "I promise. You said you trusted me, right?" She smiled and nodded her head. "Good," I said. "Now quit bringing me down and let's get back to the good stuff." She laughed as we resumed kissing. Sick days were the best.


	11. Anarchy in the UK (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Eleven: Anarchy in the U.K. (Alex)_

"Alex! Tell me what today is!" Ryan shouted at me with a smile on his face. I wasn't sure how he managed to stay so upbeat. I was feeling tired, cranky, and even a little anxious. I kept looking down at my plane ticket, trying to find my seat, but when I looked backed up at Dunn, I saw that he was holding a small video camera. Even though filming for the show had wrapped, they were still taping shit.

"It's Thursday," I groaned, finally locating my seat: _29B._

"And what's so special about this particular Thursday?" Ryan replied, finding his own seat in the row in front of me. I was about to respond, but Steve-O sat down in the seat to my left and answered Dunn's question for me.

"The Jackass premiere is tonight!" he yelled causing the rest of the crew, who were shuffling onto the plane, erupt into applause. The other passengers who were seated in the coach section of the plane gave us strange looks—I guess they weren't Jackass fans—but I just chuckled, shaking my head. The past two months had been nothing but work, work, and more work, but it was well worth it. Season two of Jackass was premiering at on MTV. And instead of partying the night away to celebrate, we were spending ten hours on a horrendous plane ride from LA to London. Needless to say, I wasn't too excited.

"30B!" Chris shouted before sitting in the seat to my right. "Looks like Alex is going to be my snuggle-buddy during the plane ride!" Ryan and I laughed.

"I guess Alex is going to be in a Steve-O-and-Pontius sandwich," laughed Bam, taking a seat next to Dunn, who was still dicking with the settings on his video camera.

"That's not a bad place to be, if you ask me," Steve said with a wink, nudging me with his elbow. I rolled my eyes, knowing that Steve and Chris were going to be acting like crazy people for the entire plane ride, but honestly, I didn't mind. At least they would make the next ten hours I had to spend aboard this plane a little interesting.

"You're such an asshole," I said to Steve, but he just chuckled, putting his arm around my shoulders. A woman with a young boy—probably her son—gave me a dirty look for swearing. I sighed, realizing just how dull the next ten hours were going to be. If I couldn't even swear without getting a dirty look, what _could _I do? I contemplated this for a moment, but my thoughts were halted when someone whacked me on the back of the head. I turned around to see Dave chuckling, as he took a seat in the row behind me, along with Ehren, Preston, and Wee Man.

"You're an asshole, too," I said with to Dave, a smile on my face. I didn't turn to see if I got anymore dirty looks from other plane passengers, but when I did turn, I saw Jeff and Johnny take the two empty seats next to Chris. I smiled at Jeff before meeting eyes with Johnny, who I couldn't help but beam at. Over the past months, Johnny and I had done our best to keep our relationship a secret, and we were successful. Not a person knew about us. And even though I was happy about the secret status of our relationship, I still found it hard to hide my obvious feelings for him when I was around the guys. I wasn't sure how much longer we were going to be able to keep the whole thing a secret. Every day, my relationship with Johnny was growing more and more serious. Someday—someday soon—we were going to have to come clean about our relationship.

"Enjoying the lovely amenities provided by MTV UK?" Jeff said sarcastically as he settled into his seat. We had to have gotten the shittiest seats on the plane. The seats were all the way in the back and they were so close together that I had no room to stretch out my legs. But I wasn't going to voice my complaints about the seats. As long as someone else was paying, I was fine. However, I would gladly bitch about the airport.

"That airport was like shitty amusement park," I explained after Jeff asked me how I my first experience with any form of air travel went. "You wait in line after line to go sit on a long, torturous shitty ride that has risk of death. People who say they enjoy flying are insane." Jeff laughed as a stewardess spoke over an intercom, telling us all to turn off our electronics during takeoff. We all listened in silence as the plane attendant listed things we could and could not do on the plane and I felt like I was in school again. And just like when I was in school, I was totally zoned out, not paying a bit of attention. I was staring at Chris as he fished an orange prescription bottle out of his pocket, twisting the bottle open and taking out a few white pills. After sensing that I was staring at him, Chris looked at me and began to explain himself.

"Sleeping pills," he said, swallowing the handful of pills dry. "Legitimately prescribed," he added with a cough. I chuckled. As if I cared whether he had a legitimate prescription for whatever meds he was taking. He seemed to have taken a lot of them—at least three or four—but hey, whatever helped him get through this shitty plane ride.

Over the next couple of hours, the plane ride was pretty boring. Chris fell asleep on my shoulder and every time I tried to push him off, he would just hold onto me tighter, so I decided to give in and just let him sleep. The guys behind me were chatting about Britain and the guys in front of me were talking about British women.

"Do you think they're easy?" Bam asked, turning around to face me. I shrugged.

"Don't know," I replied. "But I doubt it. British people seem…stuffy and proper." Bam nodded in agreement.

"Besides," Dunn said, "aren't British chicks supposed to be ugly as hell?" Bam and I laughed.

"Since when did you have any standards?" I asked. Bam laughed and Dunn had to take a moment to genuinely think about it. The Jackass crew wasn't known for being picky when it came to hookups. I've seen all of them leave bars with some busted girls. But women would throw themselves at these guys every now and then, and seeing as how the Jackass cast is full of the most oversexed men in Hollywood, they never turned a lonely lady down. Having a television show definitely gets you laid.

"Hey, I'm not as bad as Steve is," Dunn finally said. "That guy will stick it in anything with two legs." I laughed, turning to Steve and elbowing him. He woke up out of his semi-slumber.

"What's going on?" he said drowsily. "Is the flight over?"

"Nope," I replied. "We were just talking about fucking ugly chicks and you are pretty much an expert in that department. Thought you might like to join in on the conversation." Steve snickered, not even trying to deny the fact that he was notorious for taking home less than attractive girls.

"I take one for the team every now and then," he said. "You know, it's funny, because I never thought I was handsome until I got on TV. Now I'm still not handsome, but I've got a TV show, so the girls go fucking crazy. Now it's like…pillaging." I laughed, shaking my head.

"Chris get's it in, too," Bam said, nodding his head at Pontius who was still sleeping on my shoulder. "Isn't that right, Chris?" Bam continued, leaning over his seat and hitting the side of Chris's head. I part of me thought that Chris would have slept right through the mini-assault, seeing as how he took so many sleeping pills, but surprisingly he woke up. He slowly opened his glazed eyes, a tired look on his face. I quickly realized the effect of the sleeping aids hadn't worn off yet. He looked around the plane, looking quite disoriented as he did so. He paid no attention to Bam or me, but he turned to Jeff, who was typing something on a computer that was sitting in his lap.

"How the hell are you doing, Jimmy?" Chris said to Jeff. He was so out of it, he forgot Jeff's name. I immediately started to laugh hysterically along with the other guys. Chris started laughing too, but it was obvious that he had no idea what was going on. Jeff had an exasperated look on his face and he didn't respond, so Chris just kept on talking. "Jimmy, can you hand me that…uh…what's it called?" He pointed his finger to a bottle of beer that Johnny was holding.

"Beer?" Johnny asked. I was pretty sure that giving alcohol to the jackass who was high on prescription pills while aboard an airplane was a terrible idea, but we've had worse ideas than that. So Johnny gladly handed the bottle to Chris, who ended up spilling most the beer down the front of his shirt while trying to drink it. Steve and I were cracking up, laughing wildly as our friend made a total ass out of himself in front of all the other passengers on the plane. We started laughing harder as Chris proceeded to stand up, taking off his beer soaked shirt and tossing it to the floor.

"Holy shit!" Bam said, a smile on his face. "Ryan, why aren't you filming this shit?!" Dunn quickly pulled out his video camera, beginning to tape the event as it unfolded. The other people on the plane were staring at Chris with horrified looks on their faces. Upon realizing everyone was staring at him, Chris decided to speak out.

"What?" he said loudly, a confused look on his face. "Are you guys not comfortable with the male body?" By this time, the whole Jackass crew was going crazy, and pretty much everyone else looked terrified. "Well, I am going to go use the ladies room…" Chris added before stumbling his way past Jeff and Johnny, down the aisle to the bathrooms. Now, a group of flight attendants were beginning to coagulate near the front of the plane, looking utterly shocked. One of them walked over to us, not even bothering to speak to Chris, who was still staggering his way to the bathrooms.

"Did he take some kind of drug?" the stewardess asked quietly. I wasn't sure what to say. Were sleeping pills even considered a drug? I was about to lie and tell her that Chris wasn't on drugs, he was just really tired, but before I could answer, Steve decided it would be a good idea to air his own dirty laundry to the stewardess.

"Yeah he did! And I did too!" shouted Steve. I grimaced, sinking in my seat, wondering how stupid Steve really was. "But it's perfectly legal because it's in us, not on us!" Jeff was shaking his head, probably asking himself why he chose to work with a bunch of jackasses like us. The stewardess looked like she was at a loss, so she just turned, slowly walking away from us. I slapped Steve on the back of the head right after she left.

"Hey!" he shouted. "What was that for?" I rolled my eyes.

"For being an asshole," I replied. "And next time a flight attendant tries to talk to us, you don't open your mouth. I don't want to get arrested before we get to London." Steve snickered, not taking my hollow threat very seriously.

"Oh no!" I heard a stewardess shout. I looked over to see what the cause of her distress was, and I saw that Chris was standing in front of the bathroom, pissing all over the door, laughing as he did so. He made it to the bathroom door, he just decided that he would rather pee in front of everyone on the plane than piss in the comfort of the restroom.

"That guy will whip his dick out anywhere," Wee Man said, smiling. I laughed, watching as a male flight attendant led a piss-and-beer-soaked Chris back to his seat.

"Please take a seat, sir," the steward said, forcing Chris into his seat.

"I don't need a drink," Chris said shaking his head.

"Do not let him out of his seat again," the steward warned, ignoring Chris's ramblings and eyeing the rest of the Jackass crew. "He has already caused a scene and made a mess. If he acts out one more time, we are going to have to hand him over to the authorities—"

"No need to do that," Jeff said, smiling weakly. "We are going to keep him in check for the rest of the flight. You can count on that." Jeff spoke nervously, patting Chris on the shoulder. Chris looked like he was about to pass out again. His eyes were drifting in two different directions and he was swaying back and forth in his seat. After a matter of minutes, he was sleeping once again.

The remaining five hours of the plane ride were awkward, to say the least. I watched as the flight attendants laid newspapers on the ground around the area where Chris relieved himself, making it look like a dog had pissed all over the floor. The attendants and the passengers on the plane were giving us the death stare the whole time. When the plane landed, we had to be escorted off the plane before the other passengers in case we caused anymore chaos. As we got off the plane, people clapped, happy to see us go. At least it was over.

Landing in London was more exciting than I thought it would be. Initially, I was pretty neutral about this trip, but sitting in the backseat of one of our rental cars, seeing the British landmarks as we drove to our hotel, I was really stoked. I wasn't the only one—Bam had his window rolled down, sticking his head outside to get a better view of everything we had passed. Steve told us a few facts about the new country we had entered. He was born in the UK and though he only lived there for a short time, he still knew a little bit about the place. While we all chatted eagerly, Chris slept on the floor of the car.

"Okay, where did I put our itinerary?" Jeff said, shuffling through some papers he had in his lap. "Oh, here it is." He took out one of the papers and held it up, reading it to all of us. "Our press junket starts tomorrow. Steve and Alex our going on…_Chat With Jack_." I groaned, thinking about how awkward it was going to be.

"It won't be that bad, Al," Ryan said. "I remember my first interview for Jackass. It went pretty well. I mean, Bam talked the whole time, but when I had to talk, it wasn't that terrible." I laughed and Bam punched Dunn's arm.

"Don't worry about it," Bam said. "Because no matter how stupid you act, Steve will make you look like a fucking genius."

"Hey!" Steve said. "That's not…" he trailed off. "Well, actually, it is probably true." I laughed.

"Okay, here is our hotel information," Jeff announced, pulling out another piece of paper. "It looks like we are staying at The Metropolitan." Sitting in the driver's seat, Dave laughed.

"So they fly us to London in coach, but they put us in a five star hotel?" he said. I had to admit, it didn't make much sense. I would have liked a first class flight to London, but I'm sure our plane ride would have been fucked no matter where we were sitting. And I wasn't going to complain about a five star hotel, either.

"They probably would have kicked us out of first class thanks to the pill-popper in the backseat." Jeff said. "But anyways, I've got the room arrangements right here. They gave us five rooms. One for Johnny and me, one for Ehren and Dave, one for Preston and Wee Man, and one for Dunn and Bam." I sighed after realizing I wasn't signed up for a room.

"And Alex is sleeping in the rental car?" I said. Jeff looked back at me, realizing that he had forgotten all about me.

"Damn," he said, rubbing his chin. "I told them we only needed five rooms. I mean, whenever we travel, we usually only need five rooms. I forgot that we added another person to our cast." He thought about what he was going to do for a moment. "Well, I'm sure we can work something out. They've got to have another room we can book for you."

"It's kind of short notice, don't you think?" Johnny said. "What if there aren't any rooms available?" Jeff thought about this, but all he couldn't think up a solution. He just shrugged.

"Let her room with you guys," Dunn said. "Jeff can sleep in the bathtub because he is the asshole the messed the whole room situation up." I laughed at the idea.

"No way," I replied. "I'm not going to come between Jeff and Johnny's bromance." Johnny stuck his tongue out at me.

"You can room with Chris and me," Steve said hopefully. "I'm sure the beds are big enough for two," he added with a wink. I punched his arm, making him groan momentarily with pain.

"I wouldn't advise you sleeping anywhere near those two," Jeff said. "First of all, I don't even want to know what kind of creepy shit Steve would try to do to you while you were asleep—"

"Hey! That's not cool, dude!" Steve shouted.

"You're killing his game, Jeff," Johnny said with a laugh. "His nonexistent game..."

"Well, aside from the fact that I wouldn't trust Steve to be in the same room as an unconscious woman," Jeff continued, "I don't think you would want to sleep in the same room as Chris. He's got this…uh…masturbation problem. And he tends to make it everyone's problem."

"Yeah," Ryan chimed in. "I had to room with him when we went to Florida one time. He was jerking off all night! I couldn't get a fucking minute of sleep." I groaned, raising an eyebrow. "If you sleep anywhere near him," Dunn continued, "you're gonna get messy."

"That's lovely," I said, shaking my head. Why were men so..._disgusting?_ "I think I'll skip rooming with the chronic masturbator, if that's okay with everybody."

"I think we all understand," Jeff said. "And I'm sure I can get you a room. But if I can't…well, we will deal with the later."

When we got to the hotel, we had a little trouble with the rooming situation. The receptionist at the front desk told us that the whole building was booked, but I used my _girlish charm _to convince him otherwise. In other words, I bitched and complained until he finally gave way and made arrangements for me. So I got my own room. And I made sure it was a nice one. With a view.

When we got to the eleventh floor of the hotel, all the guys dispersed into their own rooms, claiming beds and fighting about other difficulties that went along with sharing a room. Lucky for me, I didn't have to deal with any of that. I just walked into my own room, dropping my bags on the floor, and walked over to the window. Outside, I could see the Big Ben. I smiled, putting my hand on the glass. I couldn't believe I was here. I couldn't believe any of this was happening. Jackass, the premiere, the fame—it all felt so surreal.

"Hey, Alex," said a voice coming from behind me. I turned around and saw Johnny walking into my room, closing the door behind him. _Johnny. _He didn't seem real either. A guy so faultless couldn't be real. He couldn't be for me.

"Hey," I said, taking my hands off the cool glass pane of the window.

"Wow," Johnny said, walking up beside me. He looked out the window, transfixed by the view. "All I can see out my window is the parking lot," he added with a laugh. "You've got a nice view." We just looked out the window for another moment. "You're room so nice…I think I'm going to room with you for the rest of the trip," Johnny added, putting his arms around my waste and kissing my neck.

"I'm sure no one would notice," I said sarcastically. "Jeff's probably already wondering where his sidekick is."

"Hey!" Johnny said. "I'm not Jeff's sidekick. If anything, he's my sidekick."

"Whatever you say, cowboy," I laughed. Johnny stared at me with a smug look on his face.

"I'm gonna get you back for that," he said before kissing me again. He leaned closer to me, pressing me against the window. My stomach tightened, sensing the excitement I felt every time he touched me. No matter how long we kept this up, I knew that this feeling would never fade away. As I thought about this, a knock at the door caused Johnny and me to jump apart, trying to act as if we weren't just feeling each other up.

"Alex?" said a voice from the other side of the door. It was Jeff. I looked at Johnny, unsure what to do next. I couldn't ignore him, but at the same time, I couldn't let him.

"Don't worry," Johnny whispered, a smile on is face. "I locked the door."

"So?" I whispered back. "I have to let him in. And you being in here with the door locked is going to look pretty suspicious." I tried to think up something to do. All I could come up with was to hide Johnny somewhere. It was all there was too do. So before Johnny could protest, I shoved him into the closet, closing the door. "Don't make a sound!" I said in a hushed tone before I opened the door for Jeff.

"Hey Al," Jeff said, smiling at me.

"Hi," I replied, trying to sound as natural as I possibly could. "What's up Jeff?"

"Nothing," he said. "I was just looking for Johnny. Thought he might be in here…" He raised an eyebrow, looking past me to see if Johnny was in my room. I opened the door for him, welcoming him into my room.

"Johnny?" I said, questioning Jeff. I sat down on my bed, acting as if I had no idea what Jeff was talking about. "I haven't seen him since we got here." Jeff seemed satisfied with my answer.

"Well, the guys are heading down stairs. Going to hit up the bar to celebrate getting here. You're welcome to come," Jeff said. "If you find Johnny, tell him to meet us down there."

"Alright," I said to Jeff before he left. "I'll tell him if I see him." Once I was sure Jeff was gone, I closed the door and locked it. Johnny emerged from the closet.

"Johnny?" I said sarcastically, acting like I was surprised to see him. "Jeff is looking for you, you know. What are you doing in me closet?" He smiled, shaking his head.

"I thought I would see how spacious the closets were in here," Johnny joked. "They're pretty big, if you wondering." He walked over to me. "Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" He kissed my cheek.

"You sure you don't want to go downstairs and hang out with the guys?" I asked with a snicker. "I'm sure there having a lot of fun down there."

"I think I am going to have more fun up here," Johnny replied mischievously. I had to agree. The two of us were going to have a party of our own.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

While backstage on the set of a late night talk show, I laid, half-asleep, on an out dated, gray couch. A knock at the door woke me up from my semi-slumber. "Who the fuck is that?" I heard Steve-O growl, sleeping on the floor of the dressing room. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I slowly pushed myself off the couch, walking to the door. I opened it, seeing an unfamiliar face on the other side. And he looked pissed.

"You guys are on in fifteen minutes," the man said. He was wearing a headset and a pair of thin, wiry glasses. He held a clipboard in his hand. I examined him for a moment before it registered who he was. He was some kind of stage hand for the talk show we were about to go on.

"Sweet," I murmured, totally out of it. The man looked at me with his piercing eyes, probably disgusted by the fact that two drunks were getting paid a huge lump of cash to be interviewed, while he was getting paid shit to cater to us. It was pretty funny from where I was standing. I waited a moment longer for him to leave, and when he didn't, I shut the door in his face. Having a dressing room with your name on the door had its perks.

"Steve," I said, walking over to where he was sleeping. "Steve, get up!" I shouted. I gently kicked him, attempting to wake him, but it didn't work. I groaned, getting on my knees. I shook him once. He just began to snore. "I don't want to do this, dude," I said to him. He still didn't stir. I raised my right, bringing it down hard on the side of his face.

"Fuck!" he yelled, immediately waking up. I broke out into a hysteric laughter as Steve-O rubbed his cheek, which was quickly turning red. He got up off the floor, looking at his face in the mirror. "Why'd you hit me?" he questioned, pointing to the spot where I slapped him.

"You wouldn't wake up," I laughed. "And we have an interview in a few minutes. So you better sober up." Sober was a foreign word to him. He just smiled, his eyes wild with the artificial energy produced by too many uppers. Maybe Steve had the right idea, because doing this interview while sober was going to fucking suck. I was still hung over from a party the night before, and Steve-O looked like he was having a party of his own right there in the dressing room. "You got a little something," I mentioned. He had a few specks of white powder under his nose. I watched as he collected it with his index finger and slathered it over his gums. Steve could do more lines than any other guy I knew. I didn't think one person could do that much blow, but he could. And he did.

"Whose talk show is this?" he questioned, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right. His hands were shaking slightly. That was nothing new. He always shook a little after he did a couple of lines. I looked around the room, feeling a little spacey myself. This was the first of many talk shows we were going on while we were in England. This show was supposedly a big deal. Some small, British man hosted it. I was pretty sure I had seen his show on television before. He interviewed politicians and huge celebrities. I wondered why he wanted to interview a bunch of idiots like Steve and me.

"Jack Jensen's," I answered, sitting back down on the gray couch. "I think the show is called _Chat With Jack_ or something dumb like that." Jeff had told me that Jensen was a real fucker, asking questions that were downright personal. I yawned putting my arms behind my head, trying not to be nervous. "Tremaine is a real dick for making us do all this publicity shit." I placed a pair of dark sunglasses on my face, trying to block some of the painful lights that were surrounding the vanity from burning my eyes.

"It beats our old jobs," Steve-O said. He was right. I thought about my old job. While I didn't hate my old job at the skate shop, I certainly didn't love it. Putting wheels on decks for stoners who couldn't figure out how to do it themselves really wasn't a fulfilling career. Steve-O was working as a clown before he auditioned for the show. He was the only clown that made more kids cry than laugh. So even though I hated these fucking interviews, it did beat our regular lives.

"You got that right," I murmured. My throat was dry and I wanted a drink to help me calm down, but the talk show crew didn't want us to drink before the interview. It was a live show, as the angry stage hand had repeated many times before, and it got thousands of viewers every night. If we messed this up, we would be making assholes of ourselves in front the whole world, _blah, blah, blah. _We got paid to make assholes of ourselves on camera. I guess I shouldn't have been afraid of messing up a stupid interview, but I still was.

I jumped a little when I heard a quick knock on the door. That was our five minute warning. We were about to go on. I pushed myself from the couch, exiting the room with Steve-O. "Let's do this shit, Al!" Steve said. We walked down a small hallway, crowded with people wearing headsets and shouting orders to one another. _It must suck to have a real job_, I thought, chuckling. Steve put his hand on my shoulder as we weaved through the groups of people backstage.

"Stephen Glover and Alexandra Kidd on deck!" shouted another faceless person. Steve was standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders, jumping up and down. "Time to be famous!" he shouted, overly excited by the interview. I watched silently as the cameras started rolling. Bright lights were centered on a middle aged man that was standing center stage. That was Jack Jensen. He had unnaturally white teeth and tan skin, but his British accent was actually quite charming. His suit looked stiff. His laugh sounded strained. I didn't like how he looked, but I stood there patiently, waiting for our cue to walk on stage.

"Hi everyone, and thanks for tuning in!" Jack said in an overly energetic tone. "I'm Jack Jensen and this is_ Chat With Jack_!" The audience cheered as he set up the show. "Today, we have some real jackasses on set. I will be interviewing two of MTV's young daredevils, Steve-O and Alex Kidd." Jack rambled on with his opening monologue as I zoned out, standing offstage.

"Nervous?" Steve-O asked moments before me went on stage. This was my first live interview since I started Jackass, and it was pretty scary, but I tried to shake my nerves off. I kept telling myself to quit being a pussy and calm down, but I couldn't help but feel a little anxious. This was going to be worse than the time I got kicked in the twat by a donkey during the fourth week of filming Jackass.

"Nah," I lied, "I'm fine." Steve-O squeezed my shoulders as Jensen finished his opening monologue. The people in the audience were laughing at some stupid joke. I inhaled deeply, watching as Jensen took his place behind his desk. Soon the band would start playing, which was our signal to walk on stage.

"Well, without further ado," I heard Jack say, "Please give a warm welcome to Alexandra Kidd and Stephen Glover!" The jazz band began playing a short tune and Steve-O nodded to me. We walked out onto the stage and the audience's clapping was almost deafening. I smiled awkwardly, sitting down in a leather chair across from Jensen. Steve sat down beside me in his own leather seat. I tried to stay calm, but the task seemed impossible. The bright lights on the stage were burning hot, causing sweat to form on the back of my neck. I hoped I didn't look as uncomfortable as I felt.

"Welcome to the show," Jack said. Sitting close to him, it was obvious that he was wearing a layer of thick makeup. Before the show, a makeup artist tried to apply some colored powder to my cheeks. I bitched and moaned about it until she finally gave up and wiped away the makeup from my face. I gave the stylist the same treatment. He gave me a dress and heels, so I told him where he could shove those heels. So that was why I was sitting on a national TV show wearing the same outfit I wore to a party last night. "How are you guys?" the man asked, putting his elbows on his desk.

"Great," I said, uneasily. "This is still all pretty new to me, but I'm getting used to it."

"England is rad," Steve-O spoke. "I'm loving it here. The people, the weather; it's a nice change."

"That's great to hear," said Jensen. "So, for the people who have been living under a rock, I will tell you who Alex and Steve-O are. They are the stars of the MTV television show, Jackass. The second season premiered last night, and its ratings were amazing. Fans responded really well to the new episode. So, for the people who didn't watch the show last night, how is season one different from season two?" I slightly fidgeted in my seat, trying to think of a simple answer to the bland question. Luckily, Steve answered for me.

"Well, it really isn't all that different," Steve said. "We do the same kinds of crazy stunts we always do, but we also do some pranks and some other funny stuff. And, you know, Alex is on it now." I smiled as the audience laughed lightly. "So it's the same nasty shit we always do, but now we've got a girl doing it too." That was pretty much season two of Jackass in a nutshell.

"Well that sounds very…_entertaining_," Jack said, smiling. "So, tell me, how did you guys end up working on a show like Jackass?" How did anyone end up on a show like Jackass? By drinking too much and failing out of school, I thought with a chuckle. I don't think there were many other qualifications. But at least this was another easy-to-answer question.

"Well, Jeff Tremaine was writing Big Brother magazine," Steve-O started explaining, "And I would send him all these pictures of me doing crazy shit. I got put in the magazine from time to time. And when Tremaine started the show, I was the first asshole that came to mind." Jensen grinned wildly as Steve finished explaining how he got on Jackass. "They literally rescued me from the fucking circus. I just got off a shift walking on stilts at a kid's birthday party when they picked me up."

"What about you, Alex?" Jack asked. I crossed my legs, thinking about how I should start.

"It's kind of a funny story," I said. Steve was already laughing just thinking about it. "MTV wanted a girl on the cast for one reason or another, and Jeff was really picky about who they put on the show. Everyone on the show either new Jeff from Big Brother or knew Bam from CKY. It wasn't really an audition-type show. And MTV was pushing Jeff to audition chicks to be on the show, but he didn't want to. Months passed and Jackass still didn't have a girl. So one day, Jeff stopped at a bar in East Los Angeles, which is where I was living. And we met there and he asked me to join the cast—"

"Tell him the whole story, Al!" Steve demanded. "Tell him the funny part!" I laughed, grudgingly telling the rest of the story.

"Okay, fine," I said. "I was leaving the bar and a friend pointed out this Porsche in the parking lot. And something you have to understand is that a Porsche was worth more than my yearly salary. East LA isn't a rich place. Most people don't even have cars. So we knew that this guy had to have come down to the East from Hollywood or something. And if you come down to East LA with a fifty-thousand dollar car, you are looking for trouble. So, my friend bet me to go smash it up for some cash. And I did it, and it turned out that it was Jeff Tremaine's car." The audience gasped.

"Wow!" Jack said, shaking his head. "Now I would think totaling an expensive car would have gotten you thrown in jail, not a spot on a hit MTV television show!" I nodded my head. "Why did Jeff decide you were a good fit for Jackass?"

"Well, he got my phone number and he called me up that night and just started going off on me about how I totaled his car and he had a slew of lawyers and all this shit. And I was thinking if the police aren't on my doorstep, then I am just going to hang up this guy. But after five or ten minutes, he just stopped," I explained. "He said he was producing a show and I would be perfect for it. I thought this guy was completely insane. I mean, he went from telling me he was going to sue me to saying he wanted to make me a star. It's pretty hard to believe."

"It is," Jack agreed. "When did you decide to go ahead and trust him?"

"Well, he told me the show was called Jackass and he told me the premise," I replied. "I had never heard of the show and it sounded completely ridiculous and I was pretty positive that this dude was fucking with me. But I had a friend who had seen the show and she told me I should go check it out. So Jeff told me to go to a meeting in a few days, and I did." Jack nodded, giving me an unnatural smile.

"How did the guys adjust to having a girl added to the cast?" Jack asked. "I'm sure it wasn't easy being the new girl on a cast of wild boys." Steve and exchanged looks, snickering. That first meeting was anything but easy. I fought with Johnny the whole time, but I wasn't planning on telling Jack and all of England about that.

"Well, it was a little rocky in the beginning," I said, speaking honestly. "I went into it thinking everyone was going to judge me because I was a girl, but it wasn't like that at all. I'm cool with all the guys. It just took a little time."

"I, for one, loved her from day one," Steve said with a smile. "She's the craziest chick I've ever met. She'll do anything we tell her to. Any stunt, any prank—she really doesn't give a fuck. It's pretty rad." Jack nodded, probably unable to understand what Steve was talking about. To a normal person, saying that a chick was crazy wasn't a good thing, but to a Jackass cast member, it was one of the best compliments you could get.

"Well, it seems like acting _crazy _is something you two do a lot of," Jack said. "But you seem to enjoy it. When you think about it, all you guys are doing is going around with your friends, drinking, and partying. Do you ever feel like you're getting paid to have fun?" Steve and exchanged looks, silently deciding who was going to answer the question. I was happy when Steve began speaking.

"Rolling over a curb in a shopping cart isn't that much fun if you ask me," Steve-O said. I smiled at him. Talking about getting paid was the last thing any of us wanted to do. We weren't making that much money—I think I owed MTV money for all the shit I broke in their office buildings—but it was easier to just shutdown any questions we were asked about cash. "There are about ten-thousand things I could be doing in California that would be more fun than filming Jackass," he added. He looked at me and I grinned. It was easy to say that filming Jackass was this horrible experience that was painful and dreadful, but really, it was loads of fun. Drinking, partying, skating, and a little bit of pain that you would laugh about later? Sounds good to me. But why would we go on TV and brag about how awesome our "jobs" were? We wouldn't gain any fans doing that.

"That brings me to my next question. How did you guys adjust to California?" Jack questioned. "Do you ever miss your home?"

"It was pretty easy for me," I answered promptly. "When I left home, I didn't look back." It was true. When Cam and I boarded that bus to California, I didn't question the move for a second. I was ready to leave the nest. I wanted to start off fresh in a new place. A place where there would be no more worries and no more stress. In other words, I just wanted to get the away from my fucking mother.

"My parents were glad to see me go. Our relationship has been…strained since I started the show. I think they expect more from me," Steve added. "A few weeks ago I went to a family reunion in Canada. That was a real cluster fuck. I guess you could say my extended family isn't too proud of me." I chuckled along with the audience.

"After your parents realize that you are on Jackass, you can kiss any inheritance you were going to get goodbye," I spoke.

"Your parents aren't Jackass fans?" Jack said, laughing.

"Hell no," Steve-O said. I nodded in agreement.

"I'm not sure if my mom knows I'm on the show," I said. "I never really told her about it. I'm sure she wouldn't like it though. She didn't let me watch TV when I was a kid. No MTV or anything. So I'm sure she wouldn't be too happy about me making my living on a TV show." Jack nodded. "And besides, what parent would want their kid to be on Jackass? We just drink and do stupid shit. I'd rather keep my mom in the dark about the whole Jackass thing."

"Which sounds like it might be a good idea. I mean, you guys seem to be living every teenager's dream," Jack said. "No parents, no rules, drinking, partying, skateboarding; you seem to have very few responsibilities." I chuckled at how right he was. My sixteen-year-old-self would probably be so jealous of my life now. I was twenty-two and living the life of an immature high school kid.

"Life is pretty fucking good right now," Steve-O said. I snickered, nodding in agreement.

"Well, that is good to here," Jensen said. "Most celebrities I interview are spoiled to the point that they forget to appreciate the life they are living." I had to hold back a chuckle. _Celebrities? Did he just call us celebrities? _I wasn't sure if he was delusional, or if maybe, just maybe, we actually were celebrities. How sick was that?

"So, some people sent in questions on the ," Jack continued, shamelessly plugging his own website. "And we are going to ask you guys a few of them if that is alright with you two. The first one is from Andrea in Cheshire East, and it is for Steve-O. She asks, 'Are you ever scared before performing a stunt on Jackass? How do you push yourself to do those crazy stunts?'"

"Well, we don't really think about being scared," Steve answered. "If you focus on how scared you are, you are going to end up pussying out. You just have to do it. I always think of how fucking funny it is going to be when it is on film. That usually gets me through it." Fear was something I never thought about before a stunt. Getting hurt didn't matter in the scheme of things. Making people laugh was all that we were trying to do, and we would go to any length to make it happen.

"Alright, our next question is from Kelsey in Birmingham, and it is for Alex. She asks, 'You are getting a lot of criticism for being the only female on the cast of Jackass and for acting the way you do. What do you have to say to all the people who pass judgment on you?'" I laughed, exchanging a look with Steve-O.

"Well, I guess all I have to say to them is…" I took a moment to think about it, "go fuck yourselves." The audience started clapping. Steve was cracking up, but honestly, I didn't get what the big deal was. I mean come on, what else would I say to people who were putting me down because I was a girl playing a guy's game? _I thoroughly disagree with your opinion? _I don't think so.

"Well, those were some choice words," Jensen said. "You've got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" Who did this guy think he was? Just because he made his living sitting on a stage talking to famous people didn't mean he could say whatever the he wanted to me. I looked at Steve-O, who had wide eyes and was just shaking his head, silently telling me _don't say anything, Alex. _He was right. I just sighed, speaking again.

"I've been told," I hissed, the disdain dripping off my words. An awkward silence passed while Jack figured out what he should do to continue his interview.

"Alright," Jack said. "We've got another question. This one is from Sara in Manchester. It's for Alex. She asks, 'What is going on between you and your costar, Johnny Knoxville? You two seem very close. Are you two dating?'' I sighed as the audience gasped dramatically. I thought I would be able to get through a whole interview without talking about Johnny, but I guess I was wrong. I could tell Jack was loving this—he had a huge grin on his face. He was probably hoping I would spill some juicy gossip on his stage. Too bad for him, there was no way in hell I was saying anything concerning my relationship with Johnny.

"You know, I'm pretty new to this whole _fame_ thing," I began. "I'm not really good at it yet. But I would really like to keep my private life as private as I possibly can." The audience sighed, unhappy with my answer. I was hoping Jack would have dropped the topic, but he didn't.

"I don't understand what you're saying there," he started, furrowing his eyebrows. "You say that you want to live your life privately, yet you go out drinking with a happily engaged man? And then you go home with him? You didn't even attempt to hide any of this from the paparazzi. You had to have known people were going to talk. Were you doing it for publicity? That is the only reason I can think of that would make you do such a thing." I looked at him with wide eyes. He couldn't be serious. Who was he to judge my motives? Who was he to question me like that? I tried not to start yelling, so I just replied to his accusations as politely as I could.

"Well, first of all, I don't do anything for publicity," I began. "From time to time, the paparazzi show up at a bar I'm at. And I don't really care. I'm not going to change just because people are taking pictures of me. If I want to go home with Johnny Knoxville, or any other guy, I am going do it whether I am being filmed for TMZ or not." Steve was laughing as I went off on Jensen in the most civilized way I could. "Second of all," I continued, "Saying the Johnny was _happily _engaged is a pretty big stretch. I have been made out to be this home wrecking whore over the past few months. I think everyone needs to consider that the home was already wrecked before I got there. And besides, I am not dating Johnny Knoxville. We didn't sleep together. We are just friends. We go out drinking together and we dance together. That's it." The audience clapped supportively and I gave a sigh of relief, happy to have gotten all that off my chest. Steve patted my thigh, giving me a caring smile. When I looked back up at Jack, he looked shocked. I think I pretty much just blew him out of the water with my angry rant.

"Well, I think we are all out of questions from the viewers," he said, though I am pretty sure there were probably more questions. "So…what do you guys have planned for the future?" Jack asked, quickly changing the subject.

"I don't plan for the future," I said. "That is probably why I was such a great candidate for Jackass. I do something stupid, and think about it later."

"I only have one plan," Steve-O said, springing up from his relaxed position in his chair. "Tonight, I am getting completely shitfaced." I laughed, agreeing.

"Do you guys get drunk every night?" Jack asked in a serious tone, though I found the question pretty comical.

"Pretty much," I answered. I wasn't sure if it sounded like I was joking, but the audience started to laugh.

"Do you think people expect you to be drunk anytime they see you?" Jack said.

"I don't give a shit," Steve-O said. "I just do whatever gets me laid."

"Are there any sober guys on the Jackass team?" Jensen asked. I exchanged looks with Steve-O before we both broke out into frantic laughter.

"No way!" I answered. "You either have to be wasted or high as fuck to do some of the shit we do! If we were all sober, the show would be a bunch of guys whimpering and complaining about not wanting to do the stunts."

"So basically, we would all be acting like Bam," Steve said, jokingly. The audience laughed. Bam was known for always being one of the first ones to pussy out of a stunt, especially if it had anything to do with snakes.

"We haven't really talked about your other Jackass costars," Jack stated. I was pretty sure we had just spent a few minutes discussing Johnny, but I guess that wasn't good enough for Jack. He probably wanted some dirt on the whole cast. "Are you guys really friends? Do you get together after filming is over?"

"Yeah, we party together a lot. You know, get really drunk and then smoke it off," Steve answered. I laughed, imagining what Jensen was thinking. He was used to interviewing Congressmen and Academy Award winning actors; he was probably wondering what a couple of potheads were doing on his show.

"If we are all together in the same city, it is trouble," I added.

"I could only imagine. Well, it looks like we are out of time!" Jack said. He began telling the cameras what was coming up on the show after the break. I exchanged looks with Steve-O. I had mixed emotions; I was relieved that my live interview was over, but I was a little pissed about how it went over. I laughed as Steve mouthed a few words to me: _Jensen is a dick. _In a few moments, the band played another short segment of music. I could feel a weight lift off my shoulders as the camera man shouted out that magic word: _"Cut!"_ I finally exhaled, letting my lungs fill up with fresh air. My first of many interviews was finally over. The audience clapped joyfully as we waved to them. I stood up, gingerly shaking Jack Jensen's hand. With one last wave to the audience, Steve and I exited the stage.

"That was fucking weird," I murmured as I pushed through the crowds of people standing backstage, heading towards our dressing room. We entered the cramped area, and I sat back down on the couch.

"It was pretty weird," Steve-O said. I watched as he pulled a bottle of whisky from a mini fridge that was in the room. He cracked the bottle open, chugging from it. He would make good on his promise to get shitfaced tonight. "We are famous for being fucking losers."

"Better milk it for all it is worth," I said. Steve laughed, handing me the bottle. I took a gulp from the bottle, enjoying the rather bitter taste. The liquid burned my throat as I swallowed the fluid, but I liked it. I handed the bottle back to him. He quickly finished it off.

"You coming out tonight?" Steve-O asked. We usually would go out to a bar after anything that was work related. Most the time, the whole crew would go with us after a day of filming Jackass, but today, it was just me and Steve.

"I think I might just drink alone tonight," I said, closing my eyes.

"Oh, it is one of _those _nights." Getting drunk alone wasn't much fun. It was like hearing a funny joke and having no one to tell, or learning a new skate trick and having no one to show. If you want to get wasted by yourself, then you just want to forget all your problems and sit in complete silence. We all got in those moods from time to time. "That is cool," Steve said understandingly. "We'll go out after Bam's interview tomorrow." Damn. I forgot we had more interviews in the upcoming days. Interviews were bad enough, but when I was hung over, they were barely endurable.

Lost in my thoughts, I jumped a little when I heard someone knock at the door. The angry stagehand from before the show popped his head in the room. "You guys have fans waiting out here," he warned. "_A lot_ of fans." I nodded and the man left the room.

"Fuck," Steve said. "I hate fucking meet-and-greets. This isn't fucking Disneyland and I'm not fucking Mickey Mouse." I laughed. I hated meeting the fans too. It wasn't that we weren't grateful, we were, it was just there were _so_ many fans. That meant there would be a shitload of autographs, a shitload of photos, a shitload of cheesy smiles, and a shitload of pathetic conversations. It was something I would try and avoid at all costs.

My eyes darted around the room and I focused on the window. "You're fucking crazy," Steve-O said, realizing my plans as I walked up to the window. I unlatched it, letting the cool, nighttime air fill the room. We were on the first floor. Sneaking out would be a breeze.

"Are you coming or not?" I asked Steve. Neither of us wanted to go meet the fans. Sneaking out was the only other option. I lifted myself out of the window and Steve promptly followed. My life had changed so much in the past few years, but really, I hadn't changed at all. I was still sneaking out of windows to avoid doing things I didn't want do, only now, I was trying to avoid meeting fans instead of going to school.

"Hey, Al, wasn't Jack a real dick?" Steve-O said as we walked out on to the sidewalk. He had a new bottle in his hand of booze in his hands. "What the fuck was he even talking about? That interview was a fucking joke! Why do people even watch that shit?" I cackled at Steve-O's drunken state.

"I dunno, Steve. People are gullible." We walked together to a bus stop, and we sat down on the cold metal bench. It was about ten o'clock, which was still pretty early in the city. We could have taken the bus back to our hotel, but the sad truth was I didn't have enough money. I just grabbed the only two quarters I had in my pocket, and walked over to the payphone. Since we were in London, the only form of transportation we had were rental cars. Unfortunately, both of those cars were still in the hotel parking lot.

"Who you calling?" Steve asked.

"Johnny." I spoke before snickering. We just got off a late night talk show with Jack Jensen, and we didn't have enough money for a bus ride home. We were young, famous, and broke. That doesn't even make sense. "You got a smoke?" I asked while dialing the hotel's phone number. Steve pulled out a cigarette from the pack he had in his pocket, and tossed it to me. I lit it with an old, corroded lighter, letting it dangle from the right side of my mouth while I spoke into the phone after I was connected to Jeff and Johnny's room.

"Hey Johnny? It is Alex," I said when he picked up.

"Hey Al," Johnny replied. His voice was groggy. He was either tired or wasted. I hoped it was the first one, because I needed him to be sober enough to give me a ride to the hotel. "What's up?"

"I need a ride to the hotel," I answered, twisting the phone cord around my index finger.

"You're already done with that interview?" he said back. "That was quick."

"It felt like it lasted forever," I replied. "But whatever, at least it is over. So, we are still at the studio where the interview was being held. And Steve needs a ride, too." I looked to Steve-O, who was lying back on the bench, talking to himself and kicking his legs in the air. I stifled a laugh.

"Be there in fifteen," Johnny said.

"See you then." I hung up the phone, laying my head on the top of the payphone box. I looked up at Steve-O, who was still blissfully rolling around, drunk out of his mind. I turned my head to see a metal box of newspapers that was set up next to the payphone. I read the headline of the paper: _A Jackass Romance? Are Alex Kidd and Johnny Knoxville In A Secret Relationship? _I grimaced, boiling over with anger. Why couldn't people just leave us alone? Why did our personal lives have to mix with our work lives? Without thinking, I punched the window of the newspaper box, causing the glass to shatter. Steve-O didn't even notice.


	12. Fell In Love With A Girl (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Twelve: Fell In Love With A Girl (Johnny)_

I couldn't sleep. I could never fucking sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, watching the moon sink into the sky, and never a second of shuteye. It didn't matter what country I was in. I looked at the digital clock that was sitting on my bed stand. The glowing green numbers read ten-thirty. That wasn't late at all, but I hadn't got a moment of rest since we landed in London. The whole Jackass cast had been on the go since we stepped foot in London, so most of us decided to get some sleep when we had the chance. But while all the guys retreated to their rooms, groggy and ready to sleep, I found myself unable to doze off for even a minute. So when Alex called I felt like shit, to say the least.

I sluggishly pulled myself out of bed, my limbs tangled in layers of white sheets. Jeff—sleeping in the bed opposite mine—didn't stir. He didn't even wake up when Alex called a few minutes earlier and the phone rang. The guy was a heavy sleeper. Lucky for Al, I wasn't. Actually, I was wide awake when she called. I didn't mind picking her and Steve up from their interview—it wasn't like I was doing anything. So I willingly volunteered to pick them up. I stumbled onto the floor, tripping over an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. "Fuck," I muttered, kicking the bottle under my bed. I heard it clank against the other empty bottles that I had kicked under my bed over the past few days in London. Drinking seemed like a good way to get myself to fall asleep, but it didn't work. It only got me so wasted that I couldn't remember a thing that happened on my first day in London. And now I had a nasty headache and a hole in memory. I guess drinking really isn't a good solution to your problems.

I fumbled around the dark room, looking for some clothes to wear. I grabbed a shirt and a pair of faded jeans that were on lying in a heap on the floor. I was careful not to make any noises that would wake up Jeff. Even though I couldn't get any sleep, I didn't want to wake Jeff up from his slumber. That guy had been working hard for the show. He had pulled many all-nighters just trying to get the show on the air. He deserved any sleep he could get. So I slowly dressed in total darkness, not having enough energy to move any faster. I was so tired, but I still couldn't get a second of sleep—how cruel. Leaning against the wall for a moment, I closed my eyes, wishing I would just fall asleep right there. Al could find another ride home…

Just as the vague thought of sleep entered my mind, it vanished. I opened my eyes, feeling totally drained. I wearily slid on my Chuck Taylors and exited my hotel room, closing the door softly behind me. I held the keys to the rental car tightly in my hand as I walked down the hallway to the elevators. The bright lights in the hallway outside my hotel room burned my sensitive eyes. If I looked anything like the way I felt, then I must have looked like hell. I just hoped that I wouldn't run into any fans or paparazzi at this time of night.

I walked down the hallway, getting into an elevator. Thankfully, it was empty. I rode the elevator to the lobby, my eyes still adjusting to the intensity of the lights in the hotel. When the doors of the elevator opened, I quickly made my way across the lobby, not slowing down when I saw a girl staring at me and asking her friend if I was _that guy from that show_. The last thing I wanted was to have a painfully awkward conversation with a person who thought they might have seen me on TV before. I just sped out of the hotel, walking out to the parking lot and not looking back.

Outside, the nighttime wind was bitter and cold. It blew against my skin, making me shiver uncontrollably. Even though it was summer, the weather in England seemed to be a lot different than the weather in California. It had rained for the past day and a half. I hadn't seen the sun since we landed in England. I should have known it was going to be cold out, but I forgot my jacket in the hotel room. "Oh well," I sighed, approaching one of our rental cars. I didn't understand how people could actually _enjoy _living in a place with such unpleasant weather conditions. I opened the car door, but I quickly remember that I opened the wrong door. In European cars, the steering wheel was on the right side instead of the left. That was another weird thing about London that I was going to have to get used to.

I got into the _right_ side of the car, sliding into my seat and shoving my key into the ignition. The car quickly came to life, the engine purring loudly. Warm air began blowing out from the air conditioner, making the harsh conditions of the night seem a little bit better. I quickly backed out of the parking spot, turning out onto the road. It would only be a couple of minutes until I got to Al and Steve. I wondered how the interview went. It was Alex's first time doing live interviews. Steve had done them before, so I hoped that he helped her through it. Interviews sucked, especially when you weren't used to it. Sometimes you would just freeze up and not know what to say next. But Alex was always cool under pressure. Even if Jack Jensen—the guy that was interviewing her—was a total prick, she would be able to handle it. I had faith in her. But then again, if Jack started prying, I could definitely see Alex lashing out at him. For Al's sake, I hoped he hadn't pried. But in the back of my mind, I knew he probably did.

People seemed to be obsessed with my relationship with Alex. The press, the paparazzi, my mother—they all wanted to know what was going on. _Like I knew_. Things between Alex and me were stranger than ever. In front of the cameras, she was my friend, but when were alone, she was my girlfriend again. No one knew about us; not any of the other Jackass guys or anyone else. Still, the media was having a field day with us, constantly attacking us with these rumors about our relationship. I tried to stay mum on the topic if any paparazzi asked about us. Alex would deny that we were dating. She told me she didn't want to be known as _Johnny Knoxville's Girlfriend_ for the rest of her life. "If they find about us, they'll chew me up and spit me out!" she told me one day. "I have to work hard to keep up this image that I am just as good as the guys, but if I am dating you, that will all go out the fucking window." She was right. People already gave her shit because she was the only chick on the cast, but I could imagine what they would say if they found out we were a couple. _Alexandra Kidd? I heard she had to blow Johnny Knoxville to get on Jackass! _Or maybe, _No wonder Alex got on that show, she is sleeping with the whole cast! _People were vicious.

And aside from the fact that we would get crap from the media, the rest of the cast would give us hell too. I had tried to convince Alex that they wouldn't, but honestly, I knew they would. I could imagine their reactions of they knew about us. Even if they pretended to be cool with it, everything would be awkward. Keeping our relationship a secret was the best thing to do right now. After the Jackass hype dies down we'll come out about it; when nobody cares anymore.

I pulled into the parking lot of a huge building. This was the place where Alex and Steve-O had their interview. Still wondering how it went, I drove around the lot, looking for them. They weren't too hard to find; Steve was standing on a bench shouting random statements and Alex was sitting on the curb, a brown bottle in her hands. I sighed, hoping she wasn't as wasted as Steve-O obviously was.

I pulled up to them, shutting off the engine of the car. Alex looked up at me, her eyes full of thanks. Steve was still rambling about God knows what. Then he started kicking the phone booth, laughing wildly as he destroyed the public property. I slammed the door of the car shut, slightly frustrated. "Help me with him?" I asked Alex. She obliged, following me to where Steve was standing. "What was he drinking?" I added. She sighed softly.

"What he was drinking isn't the problem," she replied. "The problem is what he was snorting." I nodded, not very surprised. We were talking about Steve-O, who was quickly becoming quite the tragic Hollywood fuck up. People loved to gossip about how he was spinning out of control. They didn't know jack shit. Steve had hit rock bottom a long time ago, and it had nothing to do with the fame he got from Jackass. The only difference between Steve when he was sixteen and Steve now is now he's got a little more money. And more money meant more _everything. _More drinking, more drugs, and more attention. It was a deadly combination, especially for a guy like Steve.

I put my arm around Steve-O's shoulders, trying to gently coax him into getting into the car. "Hey, buddy," I said, leading him towards the car. His eyes were bloodshot and his whole body was shaking. It was almost painful to look at him like this. He was grumbling something that I didn't understand and I didn't try to decode his words. Alex opened the car door, and I sat Steve down. He was acting pretty serene compared to how he usually acted when he was high. He must have been tired or something. Who on the Jackass cast wasn't tired nowadays?

"We going to the bar?" Steve-O murmured when he was securely fastened into the backseat with a seatbelt. I laughed as I got back into the driver's seat—after remember the driver's seat was on the _right_ side—and Alex got in the passenger's seat.

"Sure, buddy," I answered. I looked at Alex. She had bags under her eyes as she rested her head on the glass window. I wasn't sure if I should have been pissed at her for letting Steve-O get so shitfaced, or if I should be happy that she wasn't high like he was. I settled on not saying anything. Alex turned on the radio, filling the van with some popular British song. The music covered up the noise of Steve puking in the backseat, but it didn't cover the smell.

I tried not to judge him. We have all been there before. I got wasted all the time; it wasn't that big of a deal. But snorting coke right before going on a live interview? Where was he going to draw the line? But the part that really pissed me off was that he did it with Al. I know it was none of my business, but I don't know what I would do if anything happened to her. And if it was because she was taking some drugs he gave her, I would kill him. I knew I was crossing into _protective boyfriend_ territory by thinking this, but I couldn't help myself. I cared about her and I didn't want anything to happen to her.

I glanced over at Alex. She had opened her window, letting fresh air into the van. The wind blew through her hair, causing curls to fly wildly around her face. She looked so sad. Not sad in the boohoo kind of way, but in the unreachably depressed way. Her eyes were glossy and her lips were chapped. Her rosy cheeks were pale, leaving her light freckles deserted on her face. There was something so natural about her. She had this permanent youth inside of her. She was so…so young. God, she was young_. _Too young for me. I was feeling a mid-life crisis was coming on, while she was just beginning her life as an adult. When she was finer painting in elementary school, I was partying in high school. I grimaced at the thought. I remember when I was twenty-two. The last thing I was looking for was a steady relationship. Drinking, partying, sex—that is all you care about when you are twenty-two. How could Alex be that much different? Her life was falling apart at the seams for a moment. Maybe that is why she reached out to me. Maybe she was confused. Maybe she didn't know what she wanted. I hoped that wasn't true.

Contemplating what I saw in Alex, I pulled the car into the parking lot of the hotel. We were going to have to drag Steve in. I think it would be pretty much impossible to get to our hotel rooms without being noticed now. Steve was still shouting and flailing around. There was no way we were going to be able to get him in there without getting some unwanted attention. I looked at Alex, who was reaching in the backseat, grabbing Steve. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"We need to walk him in," she said plainly. I shook my head. She was always trying to help him. Part of her felt really bad for him. She would deny it all day long, but it was obvious it was true. She would defend him whenever someone criticized his wild lifestyle. Whenever he was high or just out of it, she would do her best to take care of him. It was like they had an unspoken understanding. Needless to say, I didn't understand it. Steve was a great guy—a great friend at that—but his bond with Alex was different. Almost like a brother and sister. A part of me felt jealous, but another part me really respected the way Alex treated Steve. I really don't think she knew how crazy Steve was about her. She thought they were just really good friends, but he liked her as so much more than a friend. I almost felt bad about secretly dating Alex. It would tear Steve up to find out Alex and I were a couple. That was just another reason that keeping our relationship a secret was the best thing to do.

"No we don't," I said, unlocking all the car doors. I turned in my seat, looking at Steve-O. "Your room is on the eleventh floor, buddy," I spoke slowly, hoping that he would retain some of the information I was relaying to him. "Get in the elevator and hit the button with an eleven on it. And if you get lost…" I thought about it for a moment. "Well, someone is bound to find you sooner or later." Steve nodded aggressively, flinging the car door open and stumbling his way to the hotel. I chuckled, watching him shouting and charging his way to the hotel entrance. Alex seemed less amused by the event. She looked at me, a confused glint in her eyes. But she was confused about me sending Steve-O away, she was confused about something else. Or maybe that wasn't confusion that I saw in her eyes. Maybe it was something else. "What's up with you?" I asked, wanting to know what was wrong with her. She shrugged, looking out her window once again. I was sick of the shrugging and the silence and the cold shoulder she kept giving me. We weren't leaving that fucking parking lot until she told me what was going on with her. "Seriously, what is wrong, babe?"

"I don't know, Johnny," she whimpered. I reached over, holding her cold hand in mine. She still didn't look at me. I stroked her palm, waiting for her to speak again. "I just feel like such a piece of shit," she began. "It is like someone has got their hands around my throat and I can't breathe." She pulled her hand away from mine, fidgeting in her seat. "Everything feels so bogus. The interviews and the photo shoots and those stupid fucking meet and greets…" I nodded my head. Right when you get big in this industry, you realize how fake it is. You are no longer yourself, your just this character that everyone wants you to be. Accepting the fact that people weren't going to see you for who you really were for the rest of your life, and even after that, was hard. It was hard for me. It was probably going to be even harder for her.

"I understand, Alex," I said, trying to make eye contact with her. She looked at her feet. She was kicking her shoe off, and then sliding it back on. She had repeated the process at least ten times before she answered me. Her answer was less than satisfying.

"No you don't understand, Johnny. You really don't." _You really don't understand. _I shook my head, putting my hand through my own hair. I was drawing a blank. She always told me I wouldn't understand her. She always said I couldn't understand her. She never gave me the chance. She would tell me these stories about her past. I always accepted them. I always accepted her, no matter how troubled her life was. How could she tell me I didn't understand? "All of this…all this Jackass shit. It's too much. It's not me. After Van, everything has been harder. But all this bullshit with the media and the tabloids—it's making everything harder than it has to be." I sighed. I knew that the tabloids could make your life a living hell at times, but that was something I understood. I understood it all too well. I just wanted her to realize that I would try to understand anything she was going through, And this silence and secrecy she was giving me—it was irritating. All I did was try to make things easy for her. I didn't know what to do next.

"What do you need me to do, Alex?" I said, coming off a little frustrated. "Who do you want to talk to? What can I do to help you get through this situation with Van?" She didn't respond, so I pressed on. "Van—he's a piece of shit. What he did to you was cowardly. It was pathetic. You can't let what he did to you dictate your life. That's what he wants Al. He wants to control you. When you were together he ran your life. When you broke up he put his hands on you. And now that you are broken up, he is still controlling you. Don't let him get the best of you, Al. You are stronger than that."

"That is a load of bullshit," Alex muttered. The tone of her voice was low, like a hiss. "I let a guy hit me. How strong is that? You always make me out to be this strong person. I'm not. I am stupid and I do stupid things. All I do is hurt people and I let people hurt me. That is just the way I am. Stop pretending it isn't true, Johnny, because it is."

"Alex…" I said, trying to sympathize with her, "That isn't true. I have only known you for a couple of months now, but you have changed my life so much. You have helped me so much. How can you say all you do is hurt people? My relationship with you is the best relationship I have ever had. Every girl I ever dated in California was only dating me to get a little bit of attention or fame. But our relationship—it isn't like that. It is real." Alex scoffed at my words.

"Real?" she questioned. "I have been forcing you to keep our relationship a secret for months now. How is that real? I go on these interviews and a lie about us. I lie about everything. I lie to everyone. I hide my past to most people I meet. I would still be hiding what Van did to me if you didn't find out on your own. It's like, If people don't know that much about me, they will never know how fucked up I really am." She groaned, leaning back in her seat.

I waited for a few minutes before speaking. I was trying to gather my thoughts before I said another word. Finally, I spoke out. "Don't say that, Alex," I replied quietly. She just laid back in her seat. "Keeping us a secret is all we can do right now. It isn't easy, but it works. No one has to know about us. It is none of their damn business." I put my hand on her knee, tapping it gently. "We are going to get through this. If that means quitting Jackass or moving or anything, I'll do it. You are more important to me than all that shit." Her eyes were closed and her eyelids reminded me of white rose petals. I just waited for a few minutes, letting my words process in her mind. I was trying as hard as I could to come up with something that was semi-intelligent to say, and I hoped some of it was resonating with her. "Okay, Al?" I spoke, patting her knee. She didn't stir. I leaned over her, closely examining her. It took me about a second to realize that she was asleep.

I smiled, looking at her, fast asleep. Here I was, pouring my heart out to her and she was dozing off in the passenger's seat. I pulled the keys out of the ignition, shaking my head, still grinning. I would rather have her fall asleep than be angry. _I guess I'm not the only one who needs sleep,_ I thought as I opened my car door.

Walking around the car, I opened the passenger's door. I climbed into the seat, putting my hands around Alex's waist. She didn't stir as I awkwardly lifted her out of the car. I contemplated throwing her sleeping body over my shoulder, but I quickly dismissed the idea. I held the girl in my arms, holding her body close to mine. It was cold outside, and I didn't want her to freeze in the night air, so I held her body closely against my chest. Still, she didn't wake. Closing the car door with my foot, I began carrying Alex to the entrance of the hotel, when a distinctive flash disturbed my vision. _Fuck. _It was the paparazzi. No matter what content we were in, it seemed like we couldn't escape them. I was getting really sick of it.

"Hey, Johnny! What's wrong with the girl?" a scrawny man with a huge camera in his hands demanded. I didn't reply. I just carried her silently to the building. "Come on Johnny, smile for the camera." I imagined bashing the man over the head with his camera, but I held back the natural smile that was forming on my face. I didn't want to look remotely happy in any of the man's photos. I didn't look at him, but he began following me to the hotel, continuing to slam me with stupid questions. "Johnny, are you sleeping with the new Jackass girl?" I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"Nope," I answered sarcastically. "I'm gay. Put this in your magazine:_ Johnny Knoxville is Gayer Than a Handbag Full of Rainbows._ It would make a good headline; it has a nice ring to it." I laughed at my own joke, as I often did. The paparazzo laughed with me, still snapping pictures.

"You're a funny guy, Knoxville. I like you, but I'm going to make a killing off these pictures. See you around," he said, disappearing with his camera into the night. I sighed, hoping that I wouldn't be seeing him around any time soon. I looked down at Alex in my arms, who had managed to sleep through the whole event. I wrapped my arms around her tighter, the cold wind chilling her limbs. I went inside the building, holding her firmly.

I carried her into the lobby, balancing her body in my arms. I got a few odd looks from the concierge and a bellhop asked if I needed any help. I just shook my head no and carried Alex to the elevators. I wondered if Steve actually made back to his room. I chuckled while thinking about it. It was his own fault for drinking so much. The guy had to get some self control.

I rode the elevator to the eleventh floor, Al still in my arms. Once the elevator doors opened, I walked down the hallway, looking for her hotel room. After fishing a key out of my pocket, I opened the door silently. Still, Alex didn't rouse. She must have been pretty tired. I brought her to her bed, lying her down on her mattress. I put her head on a pillow, brushing her hair out of her face. She looked so happy, so calm.

I kissed her cheek, pulling her sneakers off of her feet. I put a blanket over her body. She was so cold—she needed any warmth she could get. I retreated to the doorway of her hotel room, taking one last look at her. She was just laying there, eyes closed peacefully. I knew I should have went back to my hotel room, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to stay there with her. Jeff would be confused the next morning when he woke up and I wasn't in my bed, but I seemed to confuse Jeff on a daily basis for one reason or another. So I gave in, closing the door to the hotel room and locking it behind me. I kicked my own sneakers off, pulling my shirt over my head. Stripping down to my boxers, I crawled under the blanket, lying next to her. I wrapped my hands around her hips, burying my face in her curly hair. Her skin…her curls...they were so soft. So perfect. For the first time in days, I soundly fell asleep.

The night passed quickly, which was strange for me. Nights usually dragged on. I would be tossing and turning for hours, but not that night. I just slept soundly, Alex in my arms. The next morning, I woke up slowly, a flood of orange light coming through the window. The gentle light made the room glow in such a beautiful way. _Finally, _I thought, staring out the window. _It isn't raining. _There wasn't a grey cloud in the sky. I wondered how long the nice weather would last. But it wasn't like we were going to get to enjoy the beautiful day. We had interviews and appearances for the next few days. I sighed, feeling disappointed. Traveling to London would have been an awesome opportunity if it wasn't for all the work. And this was Alex's first international trip with the Jackass crew. She deserved at least a day to do whatever she wanted to.

I turned, looking at her. The gentle rising and falling of her chest was the only way I could tell she was alive. I put my arms around Alex's waist, pulling her closer to me. She was still dressed in her clothes from the night before. I smiled, staring at the sleeping girl. Her dirty-blonde wavy hair was sprawled out on her pillow, and her eyelids were closed softly. She looked innocent while she slept, not like a girl who made her living acting like a jackass.

Just as I was thinking about her, she opened her eyes, slowly waking from her sleep. She looked around for a moment, probably a little confused, considering she had fallen asleep in the passenger's seat of the rental car. She looked down at her clothes, probably piecing together what happened last night. She didn't say anything though; she just pulled off her shirt and shimmied out of her jeans, before returning to her spot next to me in bed. If she wasn't going to bring up what happened last night, I wasn't either.

"Morning, sunshine," I said sarcastically as she pressed her body against mine. She smirked as she settled in my arms. Her body was warm against mine. "Going back to sleep already?" I mused as she pulled the sheets up to her neck.

"Can today be our day off?" she said, looking at me with her blue eyes. I laughed, brushing strands of her hair out of her face. I wished I could tell her that we had the day off, but I couldn't. I wanted to stay in bed all day just as badly as she did, but I knew it wasn't going to happen. Alex sighed at my response. "I need a day to relax," she muttered.

"I think we all do," I replied honestly. Jeff had as working from sunup to sundown. Twenty-four hours of relaxation would have been good for all of us. "Maybe if we don't leave your room the guys won't notice we're gone," I suggested. Alex laughed, rubbing her eyes.

"Jeff's probably already losing his mind wondering where you are," Alex said. "You go missing a lot. And Jeff always seems to come to my room when he's looking for you…" She raised an eyebrow. "I think he knows something's up."

"No way," I said, rubbing her back. "The guys are too stupid to realize anything is going. Besides, they think you are way out of my league. They think you're too smart to go out with me." She laughed, shaking her head. "And they're right. How did a guy like me get a girl like you?"

"I don't know," Alex said in a sarcastic, deadpan tone. "You must just be lucky." I rolled my eyes, kissing her head. She put her head on my chest and just laid there. I wished we could lay like that forever. Contrary to Alex's beliefs, I was actually really lucky to have her. She changed my life. She helped me realize that I needed to get rid of Naomi for good. She helped me so much. It's not often a girl just comes into your life and suddenly, things make sense. Women always made things more confusing, but with Alex, I knew everything would be okay. With time, we would be alright. As long as we were together, we would get through whatever life threw at us. What I felt with her—it was different. It was new. It was…love. I loved her.

My heart started to race. _I loved Alex_. I loved her. It had only been a couple of months, but it didn't matter. Time didn't matter. Our age difference didn't matter. What the media thought didn't matter. All that mattered was the way I felt about her. And I loved her. Falling into sync with my heart, my mind began racing. I wondered if she felt the same way about me. Alex was always more guarded than I was, especially when it came to her feelings. But she told me things I knew she would never tell anyone else. She opened up to me. She had to love me too. But I knew there was only one way to find out for sure. I had to tell her how I felt. I didn't want to do it. Telling her that I loved her would be hard. It was like putting myself in a vulnerable position. But I trusted Alex. I knew I wouldn't be able to take those three words back after I uttered them, but it would be worth it. I was…I was ready. I just had to do it.

"Alex," I started slowly. She looked up at me.

"Yeah?" she asked. I began second-guessing myself. I wondered if this was the wrong time. After everything that happened last night, maybe she wasn't ready to talk about love. But I couldn't help myself. I had to let her know how I was feeling. I couldn't contain myself. "Alex, I think I…" I started, stumbling on my own words. "I mean I, I _know _I…" I trailed off again, sounding like an idiot. I was stuttering and hesitating. It was almost like I was nervous. But what did I have to be nervous about? I knew how I felt. I just had to say it. I took a deep breath. _Just say it, Johnny, _I thought to myself. "Al, I lo—" Just before I could drop the _L-bomb _on her, someone knocked on the door, stopping me mid-sentence. I groaned.

"One second," Alex said, having no idea what I was about to confess her. I cursed under my breath, realizing the moment was lost. I watched her as she walked to the door, looking out the peephole. She sighed, turning to me. "It's Jeff," she whispered.

"I'll get in the closet," I murmured. Before I could get up, Alex shook her head, stopping me. "What?" I asked. She shushed me, telling me to lay back down and be quiet.

"I can get rid of him," she said, grabbing the comforter off the bed and wrapping it around her body, covering herself up before she answered the door. "Don't worry about it. I know what I am doing," she added. I sighed. Anytime she told me not to worry about something, I usually worried ten times more than usual. But I let my feelings of discontent go. If she said she knew she was doing, I would take her word for it.

Alex opened the door a crack, sticking her head out. Jeff wouldn't be able to see into the room that way. "Hello?" I heard Alex say in a weak tone of voice. I smiled, seeing what she was doing. She was going to play sick. I remember doing that in high school to get out of tests and exams. Who would of thought I would still be playing hooky as an adult.

"Hey, Al," Jeff said slowly, assessing Alex's appearance. She kept coughing in her hands. I had to say, if I didn't know she was faking the illness just to get out of work, I would have totally thought she was legitimately sick. "Well, I was just coming by to see…" Jeff trailed off. "Are you okay, Alex?"

"Oh, yeah," Alex said, still sounding like she had a terrible sore throat. "I am fine Jeff. Just getting ready for work today." She coughed loudly.

"No way, Al," Jeff said. "I can't have you going on interviews while you are this sick. You've got to take a day off. I insist." I smiled, holding back laughter. I couldn't believe Jeff was actually buying Alex's sickness.

"I can't, Jeff," Alex began, but Jeff jut told her there was no way she could change his mind.

"I'll reschedule your interviews for the day," Jeff said. "The last thing I want is for you to be going out with all the guys and getting them all sick. What when I do with a cast full of sick Jackasses? Nothing much. Just take the day off. Get some sleep, alright?" Alex smiled graciously.

"Thank you, Jeff," she said, pulling her blanket around herself tightly. Jeff nodded.

"No problem, Al," he said. "But the reason I came by was to ask if you have seen Johnny. The guy is gone again. I swear, I have got to keep my eye on him all the time or he is going to go missing." Alex chuckled, but her laughter quickly changed into a fake cough.

"Sorry," she said. "I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon." The girl was a good liar. She didn't even stutter. Jeff didn't question anything she said. I had to admit, her whole act was pretty convincing. I didn't blame Jeff for believing her.

"That guy disappears whenever there is work to be done," Jeff said, shaking his head. I resented that. I was always helping him out when he needed it. Whenever he asked me to stay late and help him edit footage, I always did it. Of course, I might have been more of a hindrance than a help, but I still did it. If I wasn't currently hiding from Jeff, I would have definitely given him a piece of my mind.

"Well, alright," Jeff said. "I hope you feel better soon, Alex. And if you ever do find Johnny, tell him to give me a call, okay?" Alex nodded, coughing dramatically. "I better leave before I get sick too. See you later, Alex." After he and Alex said their goodbyes, she closed the door behind him. She turned to me, a huge smile on her face.

"I am really sorry to hear about your sudden illness," I said sarcastically as Alex walked back to the bed. She stuck her tongue out at me. "Hopefully a day off with the most handsome, most caring guy in the world will make you feel better."

"Wow, that guy sounds awesome," Alex said. "Will you give him my number?" I laughed as she laid back down next to me. Today was going to be nice. A little vacation from work. It was just what we needed. It was just what _Alex _needed.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Alex and I made the most of our day off. After Jeff and the rest of the Jackass guys left the hotel, Alex and I slept in for a couple of hours. When we woke up again, it was about ten in the afternoon. After a late breakfast, we decided to go out and check out some tourist traps that were located in England. We saw the Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and the Admiralty Arch. Surprisingly, our day of sightseeing was pretty fun. Knowing that we were getting to do it while the other guys had to work made it even better.

Of course, while we were out looking around London, we got recognized a few times. When we did get recognized, I insisted that we sign autographs and take pictures and even converse with our fans. I knew if Alex had it her way, she would have done anything to avoid getting noticed. That was one aspect of Jackass that I knew Alex would always hate, but there was little you could do about being recognized. It just came with job. I empathized with her; when I first started Jackass, I thought having people come up and ask for pictures was just weird and kind of uncomfortable, but now it wasn't so bad. It was almost like a confidence boost, which—according to Alex—was the last thing I needed.

But other than the occasional interruptions from fans, my day off with Alex was pretty much perfect. It was so easy, just going out and acting like normal people. No worries, just experiencing a new country together. The best part of it was that I knew that Alex was enjoying herself. It didn't matter what we were doing. Honestly, neither of us cared too much about the history of the monuments we were looking at, but that wasn't the point. The point was that it was happening. We were in England. We were together. We were getting to experience all these awesome things. This was our life. I think it was finally sinking in to Alex. While our job did come with its fair share of problems, it is also came with a lot of awesome privileges. Going to great parties, meeting cool people, traveling—none of it would have been possible if it wasn't for this gig on Jackass.

At about eight o'clock at night, Alex and I decided to go somewhere for dinner. We weren't counting on the guys coming back to the hotel until midnight or later, and when they _did _come back to the hotel, they would probably be too wasted to notice that Alex wasn't actually sick and I had just skipped out on work. Because we had so much time on our hands, we weren't in any rush. We just found some small restaurant in downtown London. Because the city was so busy at night, Alex and I decided that it would be best to try to conceal our identities as best we could. That meant wearing sunglasses, baseball caps, and hooded sweatshirts. I kind of looked like the Unabomber wearing all those clothes, but as long as we didn't get too much attention drawn to us, I was fine with it.

"It feels good to sit down," I said once we had ordered our food at the restaurant. "We have been walking around all day. My feet are killing me." Alex laughed, agreeing with me. "But I had a lot of fun. With you," I continued. She smiled.

"It sure as hell beats work," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I don't think I can ever do another interview." I sighed, feeling bad for her. She really never explained how her interview went the other night. For her sake, I didn't watch it on TV. But I was guessing that it went pretty bad.

"How was Jensen?" I asked. "Was he a total dick?" Alex thought about it for a moment, but she shrugged before elaborating.

"No…I mean, I don't think so," she said. "He was kind of an asshole, but he's an interviewer. It's his job to be an asshole. That's what gets him ratings." I laughed and Alex began to smile again. "I guess the interview went fine," she continued. "But then Jack started asking about you and I…" she sighed. "I don't know. I just got angry. And defensive. I wish people would just leave us alone. These interviews are so weird. The fans are weird. I keep waiting for all this shit to start feeling normal, but I don't think it ever will." She grimaced. I wanted to say something that would cheer her up, but I didn't want to lie to her. People would be prying into our lives until this whole Jackass thing was over. And who knew how long it would be before it was over. As long as MTV wanted more, we would be filming more.

"Let it go," I said bluntly. "It's not getting any better any time soon. And it's too late for you to go back to your normal life. You are going to be the Jackass chick whether you like it or not."Alex smiled weakly. "Well, look on the bright side," I continued. "No matter what happens, you've still got me." Alex rolled her eyes.

"Lucky me," she said, chuckling. I laughed, but I guess I was a little too loud. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two girls across the restaurant turn to me, instantly recognizing my laugh. When I realized what happened, I froze up, hoping that they wouldn't come up to Alex and I, but I wasn't so lucky. In a few short moments, they had walked over to out table. Alex looked at me exasperatedly, shaking her head. Everything was getting us noticed these days.

"Can't even go out to fucking dinner anymore…" Alex mumbled under her breath. I shrugged. She was right. We were getting recognized left and right in London. I hoped it wasn't going to be like that once we got back to California. The occasional fan wasn't too bad, but this shit was just too much. Still, I couldn't be rude to the two fans that recognized Alex and I at the restaurant. That would just be rude. We were grateful for our fans. They could be a little overbearing at times, but we still loved them.

"Hey, are you Johnny Knoxville?" said one of the girls who walked up to our table. She had a soft British accent and a huge smile on her face. She shifted her weight from her left foot to her right, nervously playing with a few strands of her brunette hair. Her blonde friend stood behind her, as if she was hiding from me. I looked across the table at Alex, who looked less than amused by our two European fans. For a moment, I wondered if she was jealous. I tried to imagine if I was in her shoes. If a bunch of guys came over asking about Alex, I would probably be jealous. Alex seems to be a little more sensible than I am, though. But she does have a bit of a temper on her. I couldn't decide what Alex might have been feeling, but I decided to say something to the two fans before Alex decided to express her obvious feelings of disinterest.

"Um, yeah. That's me," I said awkwardly, a small smile on my face. The girls turned to each other, laughing wildly. I looked at Alex once again. She just shrugged. It was weird seeing people get so excited when they saw you. It makes you feel really special for a minute. When I looked back at the two giddy girls, I saw the brunette fishing a camera out of her purse. I grimaced. They wanted pictures. Now they were going to cause a scene. People were going to see them taking pictures with Alex and me. Then more people were going to recognize us. Then we were going to have a huge crowd of people wanting pictures and autographs and all that shit. _This was great, just great…_

"We are huge Jackass fans," said the brunette, who seemed to be a spokesperson for her friend. She was fingering her camera nervously in her hands. I smiled, nodding my head politely. The brunette girl looked at Alex and smiled before asking, "Um miss, would you mind taking a picture of us with Johnny?" Alex raised her eyebrow as the girl held the camera out to her. Holy shit. These chicks had no idea who Alex was. I wasn't sure what Al's reactions was going to be—honestly, I could never tell with her, but she just chuckled, grabbing the camera. My eyes were wide, watching Alex. She stood up, holding the camera. I stayed in my seat, staring at her.

"Come on, Mr. Knoxville," Alex said in a deadpan tone, a faint smile on her lips. "The fans are waiting for you." I stood up, the girls standing on either side of me. I gave a cheesy smile as Alex quickly snapped the photo, handing the camera back to the girl.

"Thank you!" the brunette girl said, turning away with her quiet friend. "Wait until I put this on MySpace," I heard the brunette say as she left with the blonde girl. I chuckled. No matter what country you were in, young girls were all the same: addicted to social-media. When they were gone, I took my seat once again, looking at Alex. She smiled, shaking her head.

"That was…_funny," _Alex said, sipping from her drink.

"Some Jackass fans, huh?" I said. "Don't even know the whole cast…"

"Doesn't hurt my feelings," Alex replied. "Ehren has been on Jackass since day one and no one knows who the fuck he is." I laughed. It was true—Ehren was never particularly popular with fans. And he was never popular with the cast. Makes you wonder why he was even there… "Besides," Alex added. "I _accidently _put my thumb over the camera lens before I took the picture. Oops. Guess she isn't going to have anything to put on her MySpace. Too bad…" Alex snickered.

"You girls..." I said, chuckling. "You're nasty." Alex looked confused by my words. "Oh, come on! Girls are ruthless!" I continued. "If guys have a problem with each other we just come out and say it. Girls stab each other in the back and gossip…and _fuck with each other's photographs…_"

"Please," Alex said. "Those two girls could give a shit about who you are. The brunette probably saw you on TV before and now she thinks her friends will say she's cool if she tells them she met you. I don't appreciate that kind of shit." I laughed. Alex could say whatever she wanted, but the reason alex was so hostile to those girls was clear to me. She was jealous.

"If you say so," I replied. I still wasn't buying a word Alex said. She must have seen the slightly amused glint in my eyes because she quickly questioned the source of my delight.

"What?" she asked. I shrugged, not sure what to say.

"Nothing…" I said. She continued to stare at me with a confused look in her eyes, so I gave in. "I just think you're a little bit…jealous." Alex sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Jealous?" she said. "I told you, I would rather have people not know who I am—"

"No, not about that," I said. I knew Alex didn't care about having fans. None of us cared about getting recognized. There was no way that Alex would be jealous because I got recognized and she didn't. "You're jealous because two _girls _came over here to talk to me," I corrected. Alex made a face, trying to look shocked by my assessment. Before she could deny what I said, I spoke again. "Don't even lie, Al. I get it. I would be jealous if guys were coming up to you. I get jealous when the guys from Jackass look at you for more than five seconds. You don't need to deny it…"

"Just because you're jealous doesn't mean I'm…" Alex started. I looked at her and she sighed. "Okay, I was jealous." I smiled, happy that I got the truth out of her. "How could I not be jealous?" Alex continued. "Girls throw themselves at you. Gorgeous girls. Girls that you would have to be insane to turn down. I've heard the stories about you and your fans, Johnny." My eyes got wide.

"Um…exactly _what_ stories have you heard?" I questioned. Those bastards I worked with…I bet Jeff went to Al and told her my most embarrassing stories just because I liked her and he knew it. All those assholes from Jackass loved embarrassing me in front of girls. I sighed as Alex continued.

"Only the good ones," she started. "I found out why they call you Marathon Man." I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Alex laughed. "And can I just say, that story was the biggest fucking lie I have ever heard." I groaned.

"I can explain that," I began. "You know, when I was in my twenties, I used to do this thing where I'd get really plastered and then say really stupid shit. And all of a sudden it's starting to come back and bite me in the ass…"

"It doesn't matter," Alex said, shaking her head. "The point of the story is that the _Marathon Man _can have any girl he wants. All you've got to do is smile and charm her with the southern accent, and if that doesn't work, you can play the _I-Have-A-Television-Show-On-MTV _card. So why would you want to stick around with a girl like me?" I sighed, shaking my head. She was more special and more beautiful than any girl I had ever met, but she would never believe me if I said that. The distorted way she saw herself was almost frustrating. She really didn't understand how much she meant to me. She didn't understand that I loved her.

I looked at Alex. This was my chance to tell her how I felt it. Right now, right in this restaurant. I took a deep breath, looking at her. "Alex, I—"

"Is there anything else I can get you two?" I looked up to see the waitress carrying two plates of food. She set them down on the table. I sighed, realizing that I either had terrible timing are shitty luck. Maybe I had both.

"We're good," Alex said to the waitress before she left. Al stared at me, waiting for me to finish my statement. But once again, the moment was already gone.

"Alex, I…" I trailed off, trying to find the right words, but there were none. "I thought those two fans looked like total sluts." Alex laughed, shaking her head.

"You're funny Johnny. Really funny," she said. I sighed. When it came to Alex, I wasn't funny. I was hopeless. I desperately, hopelessly in love with Alex. In other words, I was totally fucked.


	13. I'm Your Favorite Drug (Alex)

**WARNING: This is the sex chapter. Sorry about that. Unless you're into it. In that case, you're welcome.**

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Thirteen: I'm Your Favorite Drug (Alex)_

"Johnny, stop!" I said, smiling and shooing his hand away from my waste as we walked down the hallway of our hotel. We had stayed out longer than we planned, and now it was two in the morning and we were just getting back to the hotel. I was pretty sure all the guys were back by now. I assumed they were probably all asleep by now, but you could never be too cautious.

"They're not going to be up," Johnny said, giving up on getting his hands around my waist and just throwing his arm over my shoulder. "I've known these guys for years. I've traveled with them. They get drunk and then they pass out. Trust me…" I shook my head, arriving at the door of my room. I fished through my pockets and after a few moments, I pulled out my room key.

"I do trust you," I said, successfully unlocking the door. "But I would rather keep private matters…_private." _Johnny chuckled, following me into my room.

"Private matters…" he said, closing the door behind him. "You make it sound sexy." I laughed, turning to him with a smile on my face. Before I could reply, Johnny stopped me, pushing me against the wall and pressing his lips against mine. Needless to say, I lost my train of thought.

"I wanted to do that all day," he said, pressing his forehead against mine. While we were out, we had to make sure to look like friends and nothing more, in the case that someone spotted us out together. But I have to admit, I had been craving that kiss for hours. I hated the way I wanted him. I played off my strong feelings for him, but I knew he could tell. Still, I would never admit it. Johnny was so cocky—the last thing I needed to do was tell him that I had been thinking about kissing him all day.

I looked down, diverting my eyes from his. Still, he pressed his body close to mine, watching me. He put his hand on my cheek, brushing the curls that were veiling my eyes out of my face. He sighed, stroking my cheek slowly. Standing so close to him felt so good. I felt so safe in his arms. It seemed so natural that I was convinced it was all too good to be true. I pulled away from him, crossing the room. I walked over to my bed, sitting on the edge, refusing to look over at Johnny. Johnny—the man who had been there for me through all of the shit I had been dealing with lately; the guy who accepted me, even though I had my fair share of problems; the guy who made me believe I might not be as fucked up as I thought I was. He stuck with me throughout this whole Jackass ride, and I was still afraid to put my walls down. Still, I had these strong feelings for him. It was like my mind was telling me to keep my walls up, but my heart was telling me to let them down. I was so confused.

But I realized that my feelings were no longer up to me. When I was with Van, or any other man for that matter, it had been easy for me to numb myself. I could harden my heart and hide my true feelings so I would never get hurt. But with Johnny, that wasn't possible. I cared about him. I cared about him too much. I worried about him. I thought about him when he was gone and I dreamed about him when I was asleep. All the gushy lovey-dovey thoughts I swore I would never think were popping up in my head and I was unable to make it all go away. And worst of all, I didn't want it to go away. I wanted to dream about him. I wanted to be with him. This feeling I got when I was around him—I never felt anything like it before. It was all new to me. And I liked it.

I took a deep breath as Johnny sat down beside me on my bed. He took my hand in his, stroking it with his thumb. I looked up at him. I was preparing to tell him how I felt. How I cared for him deeply. How I was unafraid to be vulnerable in front of him. How I trusted him. But before I could speak, I saw a sense of urgency in his eyes. He wanted to say something. I bit my lower lip, letting him speak.

"This isn't the right time," he murmured. I continued to stare at him, slightly confused. He sighed. _It's not the right time for what? _I thought. "It's not romantic and memorable. I just wanted this moment to be perfect. But I…I can't wait any longer." _What was he talking about?_

"Johnny, what are—" I started, but he cut me off.

"I love you, Alex."

I froze. He…_what? _I looked at him with wide eyes. Did he just say he…he loved me? He loved me? I just stared at him, trying to find something in his eyes that wasn't there. I was looking for a glint of humor or a smile on his lips, but I found neither. He was completely serious. He felt the same wanting I felt when I was with him. He cared about me the same way I cared about him. He missed me when I was gone like I missed him. He loved me the way I loved him. My stomach churned. A part of me didn't believe him. A part of me didn't want to believe him. Love wasn't easy. It was hard—or at least I thought it was hard. I didn't know what I thought about love. I didn't know what love was. I had never been in love before. I had never been loved. My throat felt dry. I wanted to speak, but I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth, coughing up a single word.

"Really?"

In hindsight, that seems pretty stupid. But then again, I was never smooth when it came to all this romance shit. And Johnny knew that. He just laughed, kissing my cheek.

"Really," he murmured, kissing my neck. "I really, really, _really _love you, Al." My stomach was doing back flips by this point. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. I needed to gather myself. I needed to tell him how I felt in a composed, respectable manner. That was a nice thought, but I opened my mouth and composure went out the window. All I could say was how I truly felt.

"I love you too, Johnny," I spoke. I couldn't believe I said it. Those three words would change everything, but I was ready. I was ready to give my heart to him. Johnny looked at me, happy that I felt the same way about him that he felt about me. He had a goofy smile on his face as he looked at me.

"Really?" he mocked. I groaned, causing him to snicker. He continued to kiss my neck, nipping at soft skin. I closed my eyes, putting my arms around his waist. I was overcome with so many feelings. I was happy, I was afraid, I was _in love_. My mind was in a state of frenzy, but right now, with Johnny's lips on my skin, my mind was blank. All I was feeling now was lust. Lust for him.

"Johnny," I groaned. He pulled away from me, looking into my eyes. "Johnny, I...I—" He kissed my lips, cutting off my words once again. I was thankful for that. I was thankful for his strong hands, which gripped my waist tightly as I fell back onto the bed. I was thankful for the faint taste of whisky and cigarettes that was on his lips. I was thankful that he was all mine—at least for tonight.

Johnny didn't speak as he crawled on top of me, covering my arm with his lips. I couldn't wait. I didn't want to wait. We had waited long enough. We had waited too long. I grabbed the collar of Johnny's shirt, yanking him closer to me. He snickered at my sudden aggressiveness as I began quickly unbuttoning his shirt. I had to get him out of his clothes. That's all I could focus on. Get the shirt off, the belt off, the jeans and the boxers. But when I finished unbuttoning his shirt, Johnny put his hands on mine, stopping me from going any further.

"Slow down," he said. _Slow down? _Why would I slow down? I looked at Johnny with confused eyes. He smiled at me, brushing hair out of my face. "We've got all night, baby. I want to make this last. I want to get to know you." His words made my chest feel tight. Slowing things down would make this all feel too real. I never did things slow. Sex was a race, the faster the better. If you take it slow, than you have time to think. You have time to feel guilty. You have time to get emotional. You have time to connect. I never viewed sex as this exploration that Johnny obviously did. I always thought it was selfish—sucking your partner dry to get some kind of pleasure. But Johnny disagreed. He wasn't trying to please himself, he was trying to get to know me. I felt a wave of shyness break over me as he pulled at the hem of my shirt. He was going to see me for what I was. Here, there would be no place to hide.

Johnny pulled my shirt over my head, throwing it to the floor where his own shirt was lying. He put his hands on the button of my jeans. Suddenly feeling nervous, I put my hands on top of his, stopping him. He looked at me curiously. "It's just me, Alex," he said, stroking my palm. "It's just me." I looked into his eyes, taking a deep breath. It was just Johnny, the man I loved. I nodded to him slowly, causing him to smile. I wanted this so badly. I just wanted to be closer to him. I pulled my hands away from his and let him place his fingers on the button of my jeans. He quickly went to work on them, unzipping them and pulling them off of me before throwing them to the floor. He did it so swiftly, so coolly, while I could barely keep my composure. I envied how easy this came to him.

I closed my eyes softly, feeling Johnny kiss my knee. I could feel his lips slowly trailing their way up my leg, up my inner thing. I closed my eyes tighter. Suddenly, a jolt of Johnny's laughter made me open my eyes. I saw him there, still hovering above me, with a huge grin on his face. I shot him a confused look. He smiled wider.

"You're adorable," he said, placing his hand on my bare stomach. "I would have never pegged you as being shy. But it's…it's cute." I furrowed my eyebrows. Cute? Shy? I wasn't shy! I mean, I _usually _wasn't shy. What was it about Johnny that made me feel like an inexperienced teenager all over again?

"I'm not shy," I huffed. Johnny snickered. "I'm not!" I demanded. He nodded, but he didn't look convinced in the least bit.

"Not shy, huh?" he said, wrapping his arms around my chest, grasping at the clasp of my bra. Trying to make a point, no doubt. He wanted me to blush a bright red color and shiver with embarrassment, but I was determined not to. So I tried my damnedest not to react as he pulled my bra off of me, tossing it carelessly to the floor. I smiled, proud of my own composure. He smiled, too, but not over my self-control. I guess it was a win-win situation for both of us.

I placed my hands on Johnny's back, becoming less tense as he kissed the side of my neck. God, I loved it when he did that. His lips were so soft, brushing against my skin. His hands were so rough, grasping my waist. My fingers traced his spine as he kissed his way down my neck to my collarbone. I tried to steady my breathing as he kissed me all over, but I couldn't. He had me in the palm of his hand. I could tell from that smirk on his face that he loved my sudden submissiveness. I had no plans of trying to stop him; I would let him have his way with me. So when I felt his hand trailing down my stomach, I didn't complain. I just took a deep breath, trusting him completely.

Johnny's eyes were fixed on me as he pulled on the waistband of my underwear. He was watching me closely, trying to observe my reaction to what he was doing. As he pulled my underwear down and slid them off of me, I bit my bottom lip, unable to pull my eyes away from his. The grin that formed on his lips was mischievous, but as his hands traveled back up my thighs, I could see a devilish gleam in his eyes. Again, he was toying with me. That was my Johnny. But then again, if I was in his position, I would have been teasing him as much as I possibly could. His drawn-out actions were only to be expected.

"I've wanted to touch you like this for so long," Johnny murmured. "You have no idea." I tried to think up something to say. Something witty, something sexy, something comprehendible, but nothing came to me. Before I could bring myself to speak, his hands slid down a little farther. _"No idea," _he repeated. I felt his fingers enter me, causing me to arch my back involuntarily. I had planned to hide my pleasure from him, but the second he entered me, that plan went out the window. No amount of planning would have prepared me for the amount of ecstasy I was going to get from his touch. I would have never been able to hide a thing. As I said before, here there was nowhere to hide.

I pressed my body close to his, my hands clinging to his back. I soft moan escaped my lips, causing Johnny to smirk smugly. He knew what he was going to me. He knew how he was making me feel. He knew I would beg him for more. Still, I clung to his body, leaving sloppy kisses on his neck, softly biting his skin as my body grew tenser. He groaned as I did so, sliding his fingers out of me and pressing closer to me, allowing me to kiss my way slowly across his chest, teasing him as he teased me. Now, he was the one who was breathing heavily and I was the one with the devilish smile on my lips. I slowly kissed his skin, I saw his hands go for his own belt buckle. I chuckled, putting my hands on his chest.

"No way, cowboy," I said, pushing him down on the mattress and crawling on top of him. "You've had your turn." I shooed his hands away from his belt buckle. "I'll take it from here." I leaned close to him, continuing to kiss my way down his chest. I made sure to move as slowly as possible, kissing his stomach leisurely. I swear I heard Johnny groan as I tugged on his belt buckle. I didn't rush as I reached for the button of his jeans, slowly unbuttoning them and pulling down his zipper. He looked up at me wordlessly, but his eyes told me everything. I was killing him with my slow actions. I smiled, pulling his jeans off of him. I bit my tongue, reaching the waistband of his boxers. As I began tugging on the thin material, Johnny reached up, pulling me closer to him. He took the opportunity to regain his position hovering over me. I laughed, entertained by the constant power struggle that was going on between us.

"Couldn't let me have a minute of fun," I chuckled. He smirked, pulling off his own boxers.

"Don't worry," he murmured, "I'll give you more than a minute." He had that smug look on his face again as he knelt between my legs, gently stroking my inner thigh. He then moved his hands to mine, lacing his fingers with mine. He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb like always. A sense of comfort washed over me. He pressed his body close to mine, not taking his eyes off of me. He didn't say a word, but his eyes told me what he was thinking: _ready? _I bit my bottom lip harder, nodding my head. He smiled before pushing himself inside me.

I gasped, my hands clinging to Johnny's back. He let out a low groan as I dug my nails into his back, biting my bottom lip even harder. I held him as close to me as I possibly could, my cool skin pressing against his own searing hot skin. I tried to steady my breathing, releasing my tight grip on him and laying back on the bed. I broke eye contact with Johnny, watching as he clutched the pillow under my head tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. I placed a soft kiss on his hand before he thrust into me again, causing us both to groan in unison.

My breathing was sporadic as Johnny's pace increased. My hands clung to his hips, just needing to touch him. I struggled to leave messy kisses on the side of his face and on his chest. I could feel his breath on my neck, warm and unsteady against my skin. My body began to tense up as he thrust into me faster and faster. I whimpered his name weakly, my eyes fluttering shut as I felt my whole spine begin to tingle and my body began to quiver. I threw my head back, burying my face in my pillow, feeling a wave of intense pleasure wash over me. I couldn't think straight. All I could think about was him and what he was doing to me. As I began to regain control of my body, I opened my eyes again to see Johnny smirking at me. I smiled back at him, putting my arms around his neck, kissing the side of his face. I pressed myself close to him as he began to tremble violently. He repeatedly breathed my name into my ear as I put my hands through his hair. After a few moments, he groaned, collapsing on top of me.

For awhile, we just laid there, limbs tangled together, wrapped in thin bed sheets. I closed my eyes, still trying to regain a steady breathing pattern. Eventually, Johnny rolled off of me, lying beside me and staring at the ceiling. I began staring at the ceiling, too. I could have spoken, but there was nothing to be said. While I was staring up at nothing, I felt Johnny's hand grasp mine. I looked over at him. He stared at me wordlessly, a wonderment in his eyes that I can't explain. A smile spread across my face.

"I love you so much," I whispered breathlessly. A genuine grin appeared on his face. I loved his smile. I loved his laugh. I loved him. My heart began to beat faster just thinking about it.

"I love you too, Al," he said, leaning over and kissing me. His body was warm—even warmer than mine. The heat in the room was almost unbearable by this point. I sat up in bed, planning on opening a window and letting some cool air into the room, but when I began getting out of the bed, Johnny wrapped his arms around my waste, pulling my back down.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled, putting his hands on my hips. "I'm not finished with you yet." Sighing, I grabbed him, pushing him over onto his back.

"You aren't going to let me get any sleep tonight, are you?" I said, straddling him.

"Wasn't planning on it," he chuckled. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night. And that feeling was right. Johnny made good on his promise to keep me up all night. The next time I looked at the clock, it was a little past five in the morning. _God, had we been at it that long…?_

"Jesus, Alex," Johnny said, stroking my back. "That was…_crazy_…" Crazy was the right word to describe it. Definitely crazy. I looked around the room, seeing the destruction we had caused. The bed sheets were on the floor, pillows had been destroyed, and feathers from those pillows were now scattered all over. At that moment, I was lying next to Johnny on the floor, my head propped up on his chest. I'm not quite sure why we were on the floor—I guess after the first hour or two, being confined to a bed seemed too traditional. So we took it to the floor. Holy shit, we were so going to hell…

"It was," I agreed, clinging to his sweat-drenched body. "So crazy, I'm not sure if I am going to be able to walk tomorrow." He laughed, kissing me on top of the head.  
"You need me to take care of you?" he purred, kissing my shoulder lazily. I shook my head.

"You _took care of me_ enough times for one night," I insisted. I know Johnny would have been willing to go for another round—_or four_—but I just couldn't do it. "If you really want to take care of me, than just lay here and go to sleep." He laughed again. I could feel the vibrations in his chest.

"I think I can do that," he said. As I settled myself on his chest, he sighed. "Al, you're not sleeping on floor," he demanded. Before I could protest that I was tired and I just wanted to sleep, he picked me up in his arms, causing me to quickly grab on to him. He smiled, laying me back down on the bare mattress that was once a luxurious bed. He gathered any of the pillows that weren't completely destroyed and a few blankets, bringing them to me. "There you go," he said, putting the blanket down on top of me. I smiled. He was really going to try to take care of me. It was pretty adorable.

I chuckled as he crawled under the blankets, wrapping his arms around me. I loved that feeling. I just loved being close to him. I buried my head in his chest, closing my eyes. I was so tired. Completely exhausted. Sleeping next to him was undeniably comforting. Lying here with him—it was almost better than the sex. Things with him just kept getting better and better. It seemed impossible, but here we were, in love, lying in each other's arms.

"Good night, baby," he said, stroking my back again. "And sorry about your…uh, walking problem. I guess that one is my fault." I smiled, looking up at him. "I don't know what it is," he continued, brushing pieces of my hair out of my face, "but when I'm with you, I just can't stop myself."

"I didn't want you to stop," I said with a smirk. He groaned, closing his eyes.

"You got to stop this shit, Al," he complained. "You can't go around saying all these ambiguously sexy one-liners and expect me to just go to sleep." I laughed.

"Ambiguously sexy?" I questioned. "You can't be serious, Johnny." I was starting to think this guy was actually crazy. Months ago, he was engaged to a girl that was pretty enough to be a super model. I didn't even understand how he could call me sexy with a straight face. I was so plain. I didn't have a curve on my body. My hair was a mess of knotted curls. I wasn't the least bit charming. I don't know what was sexy about any of that.

"Come on, Alex," he replied. "You can't honestly think so little of yourself." I was silent. I didn't think little of myself. I just didn't exactly think _much _of myself, either. "Well, all I can tell you is that I think you're beautiful, every gut on the show thinks you're beautiful, and now that Jackass has premiered, every guy in the world is going to think you're beautiful. I'm already worried about how I am going to react when guys start hitting on you when we go out to promote the show." I sighed. I wasn't going to fight him about it. I didn't feel like it. I was too tired for it.

"Women are so beautiful in general," Johnny continued, tracing his fingers up and down my spine. "You're all so…so different from guys. You're so soft and smooth. The shape of a woman's body…it is so beautiful." I stared at him. He stared back, an earnest look in his eyes.

"You're beautiful too, you know?" I spoke. That was silly of me. He did know. He smirked at me before I continued. "No—I mean, that isn't what I meant. You know what your face looks like, but I think you are really beautiful on the inside, Johnny. You're really caring and you're really sweet. People never notice that about you, but it's true. Don't ever forget that, okay?" He looked down at me. I could tell what he was feeling by looking into his eyes. He looked shocked and maybe a little touched.

"Thank you, Al," he replied. He kissed me on the head again. And I felt like something was right. I wasn't sure what it was, but something inside of me felt complete. It was like before that moment, before that second, I had been missing a puzzle piece. But I found it. Johnny had been that missing piece all along.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

I woke up alone the next morning. So much for my missing piece.

I yawned lazily, rubbing my eyes. I looked at the clock. It was a little past nine in the morning. I groaned, sitting up in bed. I wished I could go back to sleep for a few more minutes—or hours—but I knew I couldn't. So I just sat up in bed, giving myself another minute to wake up before I started another day of work.

I looked around the room. It was still a mess, but it seemed so much emptier now that I was the only one in the bed. I cringed at the thought. Was this how I was always going to feel when Johnny wasn't around? Was I always going to always feel incomplete without him? I hoped not. Dependence wasn't something I ever dealt with easily. And we were both busy people. He had a life and so did I. I wasn't going to be able to follow him around for the rest of my life. What would I do if he had a movie to shoot in a different state a different country? Would he expect me to go with him? Would I want to?

"Stop it, Alex," I said aloud, putting my face in my hands. I had to just stop. What was I doing to myself? Trying to find faults in my new relationship? Psyching myself out for no reason at all? Trying to plan a future with a man I had only been dating for a matter of months? I was acting like an idiot. I just had to calm down, take a deep breath, and stop thinking these ridiculous thoughts.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed, deciding it was time for me to get up. I grabbed a sheet off the bed, wrapping it around myself. The room seemed so much colder now than it did last night. I held the blanket tightly around me. As I got out of bed, I saw a note sitting on my bed stand. I bit my bottom lip, my heart jumping for a moment. On any other occasion, I would have mentally kicked myself for reacting that way over a silly note, but after what happened last night, I decided I deserved a little time to be a giddy, lovesick twenty-two-year-old.

I grabbed the note off the bed stand, reading it quickly. It said: _Hey Alex. I had to leave early. I wanted to get out of here before Jeff woke up and got mad that I was still missing. I would have woken you up, but you looked so cute while you were sleeping. See you later. I love you. –Knox._

I sighed, holding the note tightly in my hand. He was so sweet. Writing me notes, calling me cute, saying he loved me. I smiled, knowing there was no one there to see me. I knew what was going on. It was nothing but the infatuation of a new relationship. We were in that stage where we were addicted to each other. I just wondered how long it would last. But maybe—_just maybe_—this wasn't infatuation. Maybe it was the true love that I was desperately hoping it was.

A knock at the door knocked me out of my pleasant thoughts. I sighed, crumpling up the love note and throwing it in the wastebasket where no one else would ever see it. I walked to the door, flinging it open, hoping it was Johnny on the other side. Or a maid, maybe, because my room was a mess. But, neither Johnny nor a maid was on the other side of my door. It was Pontius.

"Hey, man," I said drowsily. "What's up?"

_"Hi, Alex,"_ he replied slowly. I raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but then I realized what kind of scene Chris was seeing. Me, wearing nothing but a bed sheet for clothes, standing in the midst of a totally disheveled room. Chris wasn't an idiot by any means—he could put two and two together. It was long before he began laughing like a little kid.

"Jeff told us you were sick yesterday!" he shouted. "You weren't sick! You were just looking for some action in England!" I just shrugged. I would go along with his idea. As long as he didn't suspect that Johnny was the guy that spent the night, I was fine.

"A girl's got her…_needs_," I said. Wow, that sounded dumb. I just sighed as Chris laughed harder.

"Fuck, Al," he continued, walking deeper into my room and looking around. "You two really tore this place up." I smiled, shaking my head. "Did this guy see you on TV before? Was he fan?" He had no idea.

"Yeah, he had seen me on TV before," I replied honestly. "I am pretty sure he is fan." Chris nodded, looking almost proud of me.

"You are the first one to get any ass in the UK," he said. "So congratulations." I bowed, pretending to be happy with my award. "Well actually, Johnny might have beaten you to the mark. He was gone all day yesterday, so he could have spent the day fucking British prostitutes," I chuckled. Now he _really _had no idea.

"Johnny? Getting laid?" I questioned, trying as hard as I could to contain my hysteric laughter. "No way. I don't believe it."

"Apparently, girls like cocky assholes," he laughed. "But whatever. I came here to tell you that we are meeting for breakfast in the lobby at ten. So meet us down there."

"Okay, cool," I said. But Chris still didn't leave. I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Can I ask you a quick question?" he said. I nodded me head. A mischievous smile spread across his face. "Are you wearing any clothes under that blanket?"

"It's time for you to go, Pontius," I said in a deadpan tone.

"You can't blame a guy for asking!" he defended before leaving the room. "And you've got something on your neck," he added with a laugh. I put my hand on my neck. "You should probably cover up all those hickeys before you come down for breakfast. Steve will blow a gasket is he sees them. Hope you packed your Dickey."

"Dammit, Chris," I groaned, rubbing my neck.

"Looks like you've got a few bruises, too," he continued. "And is that a bite mark I see—?"

"Leave!" I demanded, pointing to the door.

"Love you too, Al," he said before leaving, still laughing wildly. Once he was gone, I quickly walked to the bathroom, examining myself in the mirror. Chris wasn't lying when he said I should have packed a Dickey. I looked like I got mugged in an alley the night before. I had bruises, hickeys, bite marks—God. I knew we were getting a little rough, but I didn't think we were getting _that _rough…

I quickly tried to dress in something that covered up any marks on my skin. A hoodie and jeans seemed to do the job just fine. I looked back in the mirror, getting a final glimpse. I had bags under my eyes, my hair was still a mess, and I had that goofy, oversexed look in my eye. If the guys couldn't tell that I had gotten laid last night, than they were dumber than I thought. Hopefully, Johnny didn't look the same way I did.

_Johnny. _I wondered what things would be like with him now. Would they be awkward? Would things be better with him? Or worse? A part of me believed one thing, and another part of me thought something else. Sex was never a big deal to me, but now it was all different. I hoped I didn't rush into anything I was prepared for, because at that moment, I felt very unprepared.

Pushing any negative thoughts from my head, I rushed out the door, gathering my belongings and leaving my hotel room. I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that I was getting every time I thought about facing Johnny. I couldn't pinpoint what was making me feel this way. Was it embarrassment? Was it shame? I didn't think it was either of those things. I didn't know what it was. But when I thought about seeing him, I got this queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't believe I was feeling this way. I was an adult, but I was freaking out about having sex with a man? That was odd—especially for me.

I left my hotel room, walking down the hallway to the elevator. When I got to the elevator, I saw a woman and man also waiting to board the elevator as well. I stood next to them, silently waiting, but I noticed they were staring at me. I tried to shake it off—maybe I was just being paranoid—but I couldn't shake the feeling. They were definitely looking at me. I stole a quick glance at them. I saw the man whisper something to the woman and she smiled. Were they talking about me? I sighed. Maybe they saw me on TV the other night. That was possible. Jeff did say I would be getting recognized more and more with time. But maybe I was crazy. Maybe they weren't looking at me. And they could have been talking about anything. I tried to forget about the whole thing, walking away from the elevators. I would give in to my silly paranoia and just take the stairs.

I went downstairs to the lobby, entering the small restaurant where the guys were grabbing a late breakfast. I wanted to ask the guys if they had gotten any weird looks today. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had a strange run in with some people in the hotel. I must have been so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I didn't realize that all the guys were exchanging unhappy looks, shaking their heads and shooting me apologetic looks. I just sat down at the table, looking around and wondering what everyone's problem was. After a few moments, Johnny took a deep breath, breaking the ice.

"Al, I am _so _sorry—" he started. My stomach dropped. What was he sorry about? What did he do? I looked at him with wide eyes, my mind jumping to conclusions. Did he tell the guys about us? Why would he do that? As accusations multiplied in my head, Jeff quickly jumped into the conversation.

"It really isn't that bad, Alex," Jeff assured. "You just need to let this all blow over. It'll all be old news in a few weeks." What was he talking about? Why were they all staring at me? What did they know that I didn't? I needed someone to tell me exactly what was going on here. Before I could begin asking any questions, Jeff spoke again. "And you should probably get a publicist, Al. Soon."

"What are you all talking about?" I demanded, trying to make eye contact with somebody. Every time I looked at one of them, they would turn their heads, making sure their eyes didn't meet mine. Even Johnny. This was bad. Really bad. "What is going on?" I repeated.

"Show it to her, Johnny," Jeff said sternly. I looked to Johnny, who sighed deeply. Suddenly, he pulled a magazine out from under the table. He held it away from me.

"They're selling this in the lobby," Johnny explained. "I talked to Kosick on the phone a few minutes ago. He says they're selling it back home, too. The stories, I mean—"

"Let me see it," I growled, snatching it from his hands. I looked at the front cover of the magazine, beginning to feel nauseous. Surely enough, right on the front cover, there was a picture of me. I quickly read the subtitles under the photo. _Alexandra Kidd: Jackass Star With A Troubled Past. _I bit my tongue. _This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening._ No one spoke as my eyes glanced across the cover, reading the summary of what was in the magazine. _Alex's trouble with drugs. Alex's deadbeat father. Alex's alcoholic mother. Alex's brother's unsolved murder. _My stomach flipped inside out. I closed my eyes tightly, in utter disbelief. How did this happen? Who did this? But then it hit me.

_Van._

"I can't do this," I said, putting the magazine back down. I couldn't bring myself to read the article. I didn't want to read it. I stood up, wanting to leave before I let my emotions get the best of me. I hated this. The way they all stared at me as I stood up, walking away from the table. Over the past few months, I had become one of them. They were my friends. I was just Alex. But now, all of that was gone. Now they all knew everything. Every mistake I ever made was printed in black and white for them to read. For everyone to read. Things I was determined to hide were now public knowledge. Things I didn't want to remember would be displayed for everyone to see. This couldn't be happening…it couldn't be.

"Alex, don't leave!" I heard Johnny shout. I ignored him, trying to get to elevator as quickly as possible. I stared at my feet the whole way. Any person I passed by could potentially know every secret I had ever kept. Anyone could know. The people that were staring at me by the elevators—they probably read the article. I grimaced. I no longer felt like a person with emotions and feelings. I was just like a caged animal that was on display for everyone to see. I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I had to leave. _I had to leave…_

I quickly ran to my hotel room, flinging the door open and rushing in. I threw my suitcase on my bed, gathering my belongings and carelessly packing them away. I was done. I was done with Jackass and I was done being famous and I was done with it all. I was over the stress and the drama. I just wanted to go back to being Alex Kidd. I wanted to be unknown. I didn't know who I wanted to be, but I was done being myself. I took a deep breath, seeing Johnny open the door to my hotel room.

"Al, what are you doing?" he said. I think what I was doing was obvious. I stopped packing for a moment, closing my eyes and exhaling. I felt like my heart was about to explode. I had been on an emotional rollercoaster for the past twenty-four hours. I just needed to stop and calm down. I just need to calm down…

"Did you read it?" I whispered. Johnny didn't answer, stepping closer to me. He put his hand on my back. I didn't look at him. "Did you read it?!" I asked again, louder this time. He began stroking my back.

"Parts," he said. "I read parts of it." I nodded.

"What's it like?" I asked. "What are they making me out to be? A junkie? A whore? A charity case? All three? Really Johnny, tell me what a terrible person I am—"

"Alex, it doesn't matter what they are saying," Johnny whispered. "I know who you are. You know who you are. All the guys know who you are. Why flip out about what strangers think of you? Don't give in because a few people are going to believe lies that TMZ is spreading…"

"That's bullshit, Johnny," I said, shaking my head. "You know it's bullshit." Johnny looked at me with sad eyes. I knew he was trying to anger. He just wanted me to feel better. He wanted to make things easy for me, but things were out of his hands. He was just as powerless as I was. But still, I lashed out at him. "What the magazines are printing—it's true! How can I deny my past when it is just as terrible as they are saying it is? My mother was a drunk and my dad did walk out on us! My brother is dead! I was a fucking junkie! What do I say when I go on an interview and someone asks me about my mom? What do I say when they ask me about my brother? Break down and cry? That is what I would want to do. That is what I feel like doing right now! That is what they want me to do! But I'm not weak! I'm not!" I began breathing faster, holding back tears. I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want to cry in front of him. I didn't want him to see me like this. So I just held my breath as Johnny held me in my arms. I was shaking like a leaf. I wondered if he could feel it.

"Calm down, baby," he whispered. "Just calm down."

"I can't," I said. "Everything is different now. Everything." Johnny shook his head, telling me I was wrong.

"That isn't true," he disagreed. "Nothing is different between you and me. And nothing will be different between you and the guys. We are your friends. We are here for you." I wanted to believe him, but I couldn't.

"No, Johnny," I said, pulling away from him. "The guys are going to judge me like any other person will. Tell me they aren't eating this shit up? I bet they are pissing themselves because they're so excited to find out that I am such a fuck up. And Jeff's probably tearing his hair out over it all. Things aren't going to be the same."

"Yes they are, Al," Johnny said. "Nothing has changed. The guys have their fair share of problems, too. If anything, they probably think you are more relatable now." He continued to stroke my back, holding me tightly. "And whether you like it or not, they're your family. All of them. They are going to be there for you no matter how badly you want to get rid of them." I laughed. How did he do this? Here I was, feeling like shit, and he just swooped in and made me feel ten times better. He had me laughing again in minutes. I couldn't thank him enough for his optimism.

"I love you, Johnny," I said quietly. Even though I had confessed this to him earlier, the words still felt strange in coming out of my mouth. Strange, but new. I liked the feeling.

"You have no idea how good it feels every time I hear you say that," Johnny cooed. I bit my bottom lip. "I love you too, Al." I smiled, staring at him. My stomach felt tight. He loved me. No matter what, he loved me.

"Now tell me," he started, pointing to my half-packed suitcase, "where the hell are you planning on going?" I smiled, realizing that I hadn't thought about that. I wanted to leave, but I really never decided where I was going to go. I wanted to escape what people were saying about me, but I realized that there was no escaping it. In the age of the internet, televised talk shows, newspapers, and magazines, there would be no escaping what people were saying. No matter where I was, people were going to talk. So I guess I just wanted to go somewhere safe. Somewhere familiar. Somewhere I knew.

"Home," I said after a few minutes, staring at my suitcase. That is where I wanted to go. I just wanted to be somewhere where I knew everyone. I wanted to be surrounded by friends and family and people who I loved. I just wanted to be somewhere warm and sunny, not rainy and cold like London. But thinking about it, I felt a lump forming in my throat. There was nowhere in the world where I would be surrounded by people who loved me. I had no family. I had few friends. I was alone.

"Where is home?" Johnny questioned. I thought about for another moment. I had no clue where home was. No idea whatsoever.

"California…New York…I don't know," I said. Where was home? I loved in California, but was it my home? I grew up in New York, but could I truly look at the neighborhood I grew up in and call it my home? I barely wanted to think about Queens, let alone call it my home. And East LA was not a home. No one considered that hellhole their home. I looked at Johnny, a lost look in my eyes. He sighed, nodding his head. He knew I was lost. After reading about my past, the whole cast knew I was lost. The whole world knew I was lost. Johnny took my hand, taking another moment to think before he spoke again.

"Alex, if you really don't want to keep doing this Jackass thing, you need to tell me," Johnny said softly. "If you want to, I will leave it all behind and we can leave London and we can leave California and go wherever you want. New York, Tennessee, wherever. Hell, we can move to Abu Dhabi for all I care." He smiled and I chuckled. "We can go wherever you want to be your new home. We can make a new home of our own." My throat felt dry. I had never had a home. The thought of having one of my own seemed unattainable at times. Hearing Johnny say he would throw away his career—the thing he had worked for his entire life—for my happiness made my heart skip a beat. How did he know what to say to make me feel weak? How did he know what to do to make me love him? Was he just really good at this relationship stuff, or did he know me that well? I was praying for the latter.

Just as that thought passed through my head, someone knocked at the door. Johnny smiled, quickly kissing me on the cheek. "Think about it," he whispered. "It's up to you." I bit my tongue as he answered the door. Steve-O was on the other side. Johnny let Steve in, waving to me before leaving the room. I didn't want to Johnny to leave. I wanted to talk about us a little more. I wanted to talk about our home. I wanted to tell him I loved him again. But he was already gone.

Steve walked to me, a grimace on his face. "Sorry about all this shit that is going on, Al," he said, shaking his head. "People really fucking suck, you know that? Whoever this Van Maverick guy is, he is a real dick for selling you out like this." I cringed as Steve presented me with the magazine. I hated seeing Van's name come out of Steve's mouth. Van was like a secret over the past few months. He was the blemish on my life in California. He was one of my biggest regrets. I tried to completely move on with my life, forgetting everything about Van, but seeing Steve talking about him, I realized I would never be able to forget. Van was here to stay. "I thought you might like to read what they are saying about you," Steve added, handing me the magazine. He was right in thinking that. I wanted to know. I wanted to know badly.

I opened the magazine, flipping pages until I found the article where they were bashing me. I saw where the interviewers had asked Van questions about me. They asked about my family and my life in New York. They asked about my relationship with him, and of course, he omitted a few details about it. He didn't mention cheating on me. He forgot to tell them about how he pinned me against a wall and hit me. He didn't tell them about how he was a freeloading prick that suck me dry of every penny I had just turn around and sell me out. But why would he tell the magazines that? Why would he want them to know that he was the bad guy, not me? He would just deceive them the same way he deceived me. I sighed, beginning to read what he had told the magazine.

_"She had a really bad drug problem when I met her," _I read aloud. _"She was going out every night. I would call her a junkie, to say the least. I tried to help her, but she was beyond my help." _I shook my head, feeling like someone had grabbed me by the throat. I couldn't breathe. He was lying. I might have had some problems, but he never once tried to help me. He was just as bad as I was. If anything, he was worse. "How can they do this?" I asked Steve, as if he had an answer.

"I don't know, Alex," he said with a shrug. "But they can do whatever they want and we can't do shit. Really fair, isn't it?" I shook my head, my eyes going back to the magazine article. I began reading the section where the interviewers asked Van about my family.

_"Alex always ran away from her problems," _I spoke, reading Van's lies. _"Her mother really needed her, but she didn't care. She left New York and never even told her mother. But if you ask me, she was doing her mom a favor by leaving. Alex stole from her regularly. But maybe that was because she never had any role models growing up. Her dad walked out her family before she was even born and her mom was struggling with alcoholism. It is actually really sad." _Now he was just lying. Stealing from my mother regularly? That wasn't true. My mom didn't have any money to steal. And how could he give his opinion of my role models while I was growing up? I didn't meet him until I moved to California. He didn't know anything about my childhood other than what I told him. I wished I hadn't told him a thing.

_"If you ask me, the saddest part of her upbringing has to do with her brother," _I spoke, continuing to read Van's answers to the interviewer's questions. _"He died when she was a teenager. He was murdered after being mugged. She never got over it. She was really close with her brother. After he died, I think things starting to go downhill for her. Not that she was doing so good before he died." _ I closed my eyes, gripping the magazine with tight fists. I couldn't believe people all over America and England and God knows where would be reading Van's bullshit interpretation of my feelings about my brother's death. He could never understand how I felt when my brother died. I bit my tongue. I hated Van. I hated him so much. Just when I thought he couldn't do anything more to hurt me, he went and did this. Anger ate away at me.

"Stop reading it, Al," said, pulling the magazine away from me. "I probably shouldn't have let you read it in the first place, but I thought you deserved to know what was being said about you." I nodded, letting him take the magazine from me. He was right—I shouldn't have read it. Just when Johnny convinced me that I needed to calm down about this whole thing, I read the article and was feeling like an emotional train wreck again.

"This Van guy…he was your boyfriend, right?" Steve asked. I nodded slowly, beside myself. "Why'd you guys break up?" Steve added. I sighed, deciding whether or not I wanted to tell him the long story or the shirt one. I quickly decided to keep it short and simple for now.

"Aside from the fact that he was a total asshole," I started, "he cheated on me." Steve nodded.

"Well that's not what he is telling people," Steve said, flipping pages in the magazine. "He is saying that you cheated on him. _With Knoxville_." I groaned loudly. This kept getting worse and worse. How could Van lie like that? I didn't even know Johnny when I broke up with Van! He knew nothing about Johnny. He probably saw that people were gossiping about us so he decided to jump on the bandwagon. Maybe the magazine promised him more money if he dished about Johnny. And why would Van care if he is fucking up my life? He never cared before, so why would he start now?

"I can't believe him!" I shouted, folding my arms over my chest. Van had found yet another way to hurt me. I left the country and he could no longer hit me, so he would just ruin my already-terrible reputation. For being a stoner who couldn't keep a job, this guy was an evil genius.

"I told you, people fucking suck," Steve said. "They are like animals, just waiting to pounce and ruin you. They want money and they want fame and they will do whatever they have to do to get it. They say we are crazy because we are on Jackass, but aren't they the crazy ones? We make our living making people laugh. They make their living ruining lives with their talk shows and their magazines. They are fucking insane." I stared at Steve. He was making sense. A lot of sense.

"You're right, Steve," I said. "You're so right." How could these people pass judgment on us? We were just trying to live our lives. Paparazzi would stalk us, interviewers would pelt us with questions, and magazines would put out lie-filled articles. And we were the crazy ones. We weren't the ones going out of our way to ruin someone's life. We were just living. They were the ones with the problems, not us. Steve nodded as I thought about it, but when he saw my suitcase and got sidetracked.

"You're not leaving are you?" he asked after a few moments. "You can't runaway because of what those bastards are saying about you. You can't, Al." I shook my head. Before I had wanted to leave, but Johnny convinced me otherwise. Now I realized that by leaving I was just accepting defeat. Alex Kidd didn't give up that easily. I wasn't giving in without a fight.

"I'm staying, Steve," I assured. "I was just…I wanted to get away. I don't know where, but I wanted to get away from here." I chuckled. I guess it was a pretty silly idea, now that I think about it. But Steve didn't think it was so silly.

"I totally get it," he said, nodding his head. "Sometimes when shit hits the fan, I just want to leave. But, you know, you don't have to pack up and get on a plane to get away." I raised an eyebrow. What was he talking about? As I thought about his last statement, Steve laughed. "Come out with me tonight. We can party like magazines aren't calling me washed up circus clown and you a home wrecking junkie." I laughed, shaking my head. He sure put that bluntly.

"I really shouldn't be going out," I started, but Steve began pleading, quickly convincing me otherwise. I shouldn't have been going out. Magazines were printing stories. The paparazzi were probably on the streets, out for blood no doubt. Staying in was probably my best bet. But being the reckless person I was, I usually never thought about the consequences of my actions.

"C'mon Alex!" Steve said, throwing his hand over my shoulder. "You want to feel better, right? Well what makes someone feel better than partying with Steve-O?"

"A lot of things, actually," I said cynically. A million dollars would have got me in a better mood. Finding out that Van had been abducted by aliens would have made me feel a lot better. But I guess partying with Steve would make me pretty happy.

"Well, too bad," Steve said. "You are coming out tonight. Just you and me. We're going to have some real fun!" I laughed.

"Fine," I said, finally giving in. Steve smiled. I bit my lip. I wasn't sure what I was getting into, but I was hoping I wouldn't regret it in the morning.


	14. You Know I'm No Good (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Fourteen: You Know I'm No Good (Johnny)_

After leaving Alex with Steve, I began walking back downstairs to meet with the rest of the Jackass guys. Even though I felt terrible leaving Alex in her condition, I knew she could take care of herself. And if she couldn't, she had Steve. Well now that I think about it, I probably should have stayed in there...

It wasn't that I didn't trust Steve. I did trust him. He was my friend. We had been friends for years. I cared about the guy, but the problem was that he didn't care about himself. All the drugs that guy was doing—it was healthy and it wasn't safe. I felt bad judging him, but the guy needed help. Partying was one thing, but going out and shooting up every other day? That scared me a little. Actually, it scared me a lot. Steve and all the guys were my family. If I lost one of them, it would be like losing a brother. I tried shaking these morbid thoughts as I walked to the elevators, but I couldn't help myself. If Steve kept living this wild lifestyle, then he was going to end up in a pine box sooner rather than later. I just hoped he wasn't going to pull Alex down with him.

I mentally kicked myself. That was another bad thought. Alex was a grown woman—well, almost. She was twenty-two. Old enough to take care of herself. But she wasn't old enough to realize what a mess Steve could get her into. One line sounds like a lot of fun when you're young and ready to party, but when you turn thirty and realize that all you have to show for the last decade if your life is a bunch of drug charges, then that line doesn't seem like much fun. But you don't think like that when you are twenty-two. You don't think about consequences. When I was twenty-two, I didn't have a care in the world. I didn't want Alex to be like me. I sighed, boarding an elevator. There I went again. I was acting like I was her dad and not her boyfriend. I needed to stop doing that.

Telling myself that Alex was smart enough to keep herself safe, I rode the elevator down to the hotel lobby. I walked to the restaurant where the guys had eaten breakfast, but were know discussing what happened with Alex. When I approached the table, they all looked at me, eager to know what was going on with Al.

"Is she okay?" Jeff asked. "Or do we need to send another Jackass up there to talk to her?" I laughed, shaking my head. The Jackass guys weren't really good when it came to consoling each other. We could barely deal with our own problems, how were we supposed to deal with each other's? But still, Jeff and the guys were making an effort to help Al through this whole ordeal, which was nice.

"No," I spoke, sitting down at the table with them. "She is doing a lot better. She just needed to yell and let off some steam for a minute, but I think she'll be fine. Steve's still talking to her. I think he has got things under control." Jeff nodded, looking relieved. Alex had caused Jeff a lot of problems since she started filming with us, from the nightclub fiasco to this new tabloid drama, but he cared about her just as much as the rest of us did. Once you're on the Jackass cast, you become part of the family. Us Jackass guys tended to become pretty protective when someone started attacking our family.

"All these tabloids are talking about you and Alex secretly dating," Bam said with a snicker, still flipping through the pages of a magazine. "They got it all wrong. They should be talking about her dating Steve. Even I would believe that if I read a convincing article or two." Everyone laughed. I did too, but I was a little put-off my Bam's statement. Alex and Steve were close—really close—but dating? That was just…_wrong._

"No way," Chris said, shaking his head. "Steve can chase Al all he wants, but there is no way in hell she'd screw him. And besides, if she was really going to date him, wouldn't she have done it by now? I mean, she has had the chance since she first stepped on set." It was true. Steve would have dated her at the drop of a hat. Who could blame him, though? She was pretty, funny, low maintenance…she was pretty much just like the rest of the Jackass cast, except with girl parts. What could be better than that?

"Well, that is why they are dating _secretly_," Bam said, looking up from the magazine. "They could be screwing right now for all we know." All the guys groaned in unison. If there was one thing I didn't need to envision, it was Steve fucking anyone—especially my girlfriend. I sighed as Bam continued to laugh at our reaction to his proposal. "You know, I think I should write for these tabloids," Bam started, tapping a page of the magazine with his finger. "I think I just made up a pretty entertaining story about Al and Steve. Just need to type it up and send it to TMZ…" After that, Jeff cut in, shaking his head.

"You know, I think we should stop thinking up knew stories to ruin Al's reputation," he said sternly. "Who knows? There could be a reporter in this restaurant. And he could have heard you and there could be a spread in Star Magazine tomorrow about how Alex and Steve are having some kind of secret relationship." Bam laughed, agreeing to keep his mouth shout when he thought up anymore wild accusations. Thinking about it, I wasn't sure how I would feel if magazines started selling stories about Alex and Steve dating. I guess it would be nice to have the target off my back, but then again, would I want people to think Steve was dating my girl? That would just be…awkward.

"I feel bad for her," Dunn said, shaking his head. "What they are saying about her isn't fair. And if what they saying about her family is true…well, then I feel even worse for her." I felt terrible for her. But there was nothing I could do. I couldn't change what had already happened in her life. I couldn't stop people from talking. But that bastard Van…I could have stopped him from talking awhile ago. My chest felt tight when I thought about it. What he did to her…it was disgusting. He betrayed her so many times. Now that she left him and he couldn't beat her anymore he was just going to trash her reputation and try to control her another way. I wonder how he would like it if he got hit around a few times. My hands balled into fists while I thought about it_. Just wait until I get back to California,_ I thought. Van was going to be sorry he ever met Alex…

"You okay, Knoxville?" Jeff said, waking me out of my angry trance. I shook my head vigorously, realizing I had zoned out during our conversation. I told him I was fine and Jeff continued talking. "Well, what I was saying was that I think I need to get a publicist for Al," he said. "You've got to have one nowadays. I have been making calls all morning trying to find one for her, but not many people are willing to take her up. Guess the situation she's in is a little too messy." I sighed. If publicists weren't willing to take Al, than how the hell was she going to get out of this mess? While I thought about this, Jeff offered a single solution. "There is this one guy that said he take her up. He's even willing to come out here in the next couple of days to start working with her. His name is Skip Arnold. I've heard good things about him, but I don't know…"

"What's wrong with him?" Dave asked, leaning back in his chair. "How bad can he be?" Jeff sighed. I was thinking the same thing. If someone was willing to take Alex as their client, why not give it a try. He couldn't be that bad…

"He's not _bad_," Jeff said, correcting us. "Actually, he is really good. He's got tones of clients. He's a real big shot. But that's the problem. You think Al is going to mesh well with some guy she barely knows who is telling her what to do? I don't think so…"

"Well, she should at least meet him," Chris said. "If it goes bad, then you can start thinking up other solutions." Jeff nodded. I sighed. I could see this whole publicist thing going either. It could end wonderfully, but it could go terribly, too. Al wasn't really good when it came to taking advice or directions from anyone, but maybe this Arnold guy could change that.

"Yeah, you're right," Jeff said, nodding his head. "Al just needs someone to look out for her. I know we do, but when something like this happens, there is only so much we can do." That was true. I would have done anything to prevent this from happening to Alex. She honestly didn't deserve this. She definitely didn't deserve an ex-boyfriend that was as big of a prick as Van was and she didn't deserve having the whole world knowing the most private details of her life. But I was just as helpless as Alex was. There was nothing I could do to fix what Van did.

"Oh, and speaking of us," Jeff continued, "You fuckers sill have work today. Bam and Ryan have an interview this afternoon, and Johnny, you've got a radio interview." I groaned, thinking about it. An interview right now was going to be hell. All interviewers were going to ask me about was my relationship with Alex. I felt sick thinking about it.

"You really think that's a good idea, Jeff?" Dunn asked, probably think along the same lines I was. "I mean, although all this media drama is revolving mostly around Al, Johnny is still involved. I mean, they are saying he's banging her and everything—"

"I know, I know," Jeff started. "I thought about canceling all of his interviews for the rest of the trip, but that looks to suspicious. And besides, he doesn't have anything to hide. If they ask him about Al, he can just tell them the truth. Right, Knoxville?"

"Right," I lied. If I honestly told the interviewers the truth about Alex and me, I think we would have a few more problems. I tried to hide my obvious discontent as I thought about this interview. I usually didn't dread going on interviews. I liked to think of them as simple conversations that happened to be filmed and aired on television. But since my breakup with Naomi, interviews were something I wanted to avoid at all costs. People were talking so much shit about me and everyone else involved and I didn't want to have to explain myself to interviewers or anyone else. But it looked like I was going to have to.

"Well, I've got to make a few calls to Mr. Arnold and see if he can make the next flight out to London," Jeff said. "You guys better make it to your interviews. If I don't see every one of you on the BBC tonight, then you are all fired." We all laughed at his hallow threat as he got up from the table, cell phone in hand. Fire us? We were paying for all the repairs Jeff needed on his Porsche. How could he get rid of us?

"So, who is going to tell Al that she gets the day off while the rest of us have work?" Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. "That should make her happy…"

"Let Johnny do it," Bam said with a smirk. "Gives him an excuse to talk to her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on Johnny," Bam said, shaking his head. "You want her bad, dude. It's obvious." I sighed, unsure of what to say next.

"Well, in Johnny's defense," Chris said, "you don't want her? I mean, I think any of us would mind a little alone time with Miss Kidd…"

"She's pretty hot," Bam said. "I'd bang her. Then I'd bang her again—"

"You know, I don't think Alex would _appreciate _you talking about her like that," I snarled, immediately regretting my words. The guys all laughed. I was coming off like a crazy overprotective boyfriend. I sighed shaking my head. "I'm sorry, I just…I don't know…"

"Yeah, you are in love with her, we know," Bam chuckled. "You've just got to accept the fact that she doesn't feel the same way." The other guys laughed and I raised an eyebrow. I would have loved to shove the fact that I had been seeing Alex for months in their faces, but I knew I couldn't. So I just sighed, holding my head up with my hands.

"You know, I went into her room this morning," Chris began in a hushed tone, "and the chick was _covered _in hickeys. And her room was a mess. Girl was getting it in last night." The guys all flipped out, interested by the fact that Al was getting laid and jealous that she was the first one to get any ass in England. "And whoever the mystery man was, he really tore it up by the looks of it…"

"Next time I see her, I am going to ask her how it was," Bam said. _It was amazing, _I thought with a snicker. This would be another perfect opportunity to tell the guys that I was screwing the girl they all told me I would never get, but I stayed mum. This is how Al wants it to be, so this is how it's going to be.

"You shut up pretty quickly, Knox," Dunn said, elbowing me. "Someone getting jealous?" I laughed.

"Am I turning green with envy or something?" I replied. They had no idea. This was actually kind of fun.

"No, but Steve will if he finds out," Chris said. "No one tell him, okay? That guy is obsessed with her. I don't want him to get all pissy over nothing…"

"Believe me, I won't say a word," Bam said. "We don't need to lovesick pricks moping around. We've already got Johnny; we don't need Steve, too…"

"I'm not lovesick!" I demanded. "I just…enjoy the company of our coworker who happens to be female…no big deal…"

"Whatever you say, Romeo," Bam snickered. I sighed. "Hey, why don't you go tell Juliet that you've got an interview tonight. I'm sure she will want to tune in and hear you try to defend her while they pelt you with question after question about her..."

"I'm sure," I said, cutting off Bam and rising from the table. She was probably going to freak out again. I sighed. Jeff was an asshole for making me do this, but I knew at the end of the day, I was just going to have to buck up and do it. I really had no choice. If I didn't go to the interview, it was going to look like I was skipping out on it because I wanted to avoid talking about the magazine articles that were surfacing. At least this way, I would look like I had nothing to hide. But then again, by going to the interview, it was almost certain that I was going to be put on the spot. I was going to have to think up some creative ways to lie my way out of any question they asked me. I grimaced while walking back up to her room. If only there was something I could do. I wished I could take all the attention off of all this media drama that Alex was attracting. Let the magazines talk about me instead of her. I remembered how terrible it was when magazines were talking about my breakup with Naomi, but I would gladly go through it again if it meant keeping Al's family drama a secret from the media. I knew it was impossible, but I wished it was true. I really did.

I rode the elevator back up to Alex's room, trying to decide if I should tell her about my interview or not. If I did tell her, she would probably get all stressed out over nothing. If I didn't tell her, she would just find out later and then get pissed at me for not telling her about. It was a lose-lose situation for me. I thought about this as I approached her room.

When I reached the door of her room, I found that the door was wide open. Steve was standing in the doorway, smiling and waving to Alex. "Tonight. Nine o'clock. See ya then." Al nodded, smiling at him. He turned to me, smiling when he saw me. He patted me on the shoulder before leaving. _"She's warming up to me, Dude," _he said in a hushed tone so Al wouldn't hear him. It took me everything I had to force a smile on my face. _Was he making a date with my girlfriend?_ I cringed. It was hard to listen to one of your best friends saying that they were warming up to your girl, and being able to do nothing. It was really hard.

I walked into Alex's room, raising an eyebrow at her. She laughed, standing up from where she sat on the edge of her bed. "Making plans?" I said, closing the door behind me. She shrugged, shaking her head. "You're leading him on, you know…"

"I'm not leading anyone anywhere," Alex demanded, standing up while shaking her head. "We are just going out tonight. Drinking or something. I sure Steve wouldn't mind if you came—"

"Well I can't," I said, stepping closer to her. "I've got an interview." The slight smile that was on Alex's lips quickly disappeared. She looked at me, her eyes full of disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" she groaned, putting her hands through her hair. I just shook my head. "Why is Jeff doing this to us? Did he not just read those articles they are writing about me? They are going to give you hell at this interview! God, Johnny, what are we going to do…?" She looked down at the ground, pacing back and forth across the floor. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to make her feel better. That is all I ever wanted.

"You don't have to do anything. Just stay here and relax. I'll handle it," I assured her, reaching out and gently grasping her by the arm, stopping her from continuing with her quick pacing. "I am going to go to the interview and I am going to answer all their stupid questions. And if something goes wrong, who gives a fuck? I mean…things can't get any worse than they already are…" She looked up at me, a horrified look on her face. I sighed. "Sorry," I said, pulling her close to me. "I am pretty bad at this whole _consoling boyfriend _thing." She laughed, resting her head on my shoulder. "I know what I'm doing. I can handle these interviewers…"

"I know you can handle this," she said. "I just wish you didn't have to. I wish this could all just go away…"

"Story of your life, right?" I said. She laughed.

"Pretty much," she replied, looking at me. I stroked her blonde curly hair as she spoke. "Even before Jackass I was trying to get away from _something_. But I can't get on a bus and leave England, can I?"

"Well, not a bus, but a plane maybe," I said. She smiled.

"You're really serious about this whole _fuck Hollywood _thing, aren't you?" she said. I never really thought about it. I always just thought I was willing to leave this life behind because I wanted to do what was best for my relationship with Alex, but now I was having second thoughts. Maybe I was doing it because I needed the change. Maybe I was the one who needed a change of scenery, not Alex. Hell, everyone knew the media was still having a field day with my break with Naomi. Maybe it would be nice to fall off the face of the earth for a few months. Actually, I was positive it would be nice.

"I am," I replied, still holding her in my arms. "For you _and _for me." She looked up at me, a serious glint in her eyes.

"I never would have thought you would want this," she said. "Ever. The guys always talk about how much you love the show. They say it is _your thing. _I can't believe you would leave so quickly—"

"I do love the show," I said. "But I love you more, babe." Alex bit her lip, her grasp on me tightening. She looked at me, a strange look in her eyes. It was almost a mix of sadness and sereneness. Like she was pleased and horrified at the same time.

"Really?" she said in quiet voice. "Van said he loved me. He still says he loves me, but he doesn't. He never did. How do you know you really love me for me?" I cocked my head, taken off guard by her sudden concern over my sincerity. _How do you know you really love me? _I didn't know how I knew, I just did. I sighed, looking into her large eyes. I remembered the day I met her. She was so closed off to me then, so guarded. Now, she was so vulnerable, leaning against me, tangled in my arms. She was new to this—_love. _She wasn't used to having no control over her feelings. But if this was going to work, she was going to have to trust me. She had to.

"Do you think we rushed into this?" she continued to question. "Things between us—they were explosive for a few weeks. We fought, then we stopped, then fought, then we kissed…maybe we should have slowed things down." She pulled away from me, walking towards the window. I felt like she kicked me in the stomach. Was she saying she was unhappy with our relationship? No. It was impossible. I watched as she stood in front of the window, putting her hand on the cool, glass pane. "Maybe we are just blinded by the adrenaline. The sneaking around. The sex…"

"Do you regret it?" I asked, walking up beside her. She looked into my eyes, as if the answer to my question was hidden there.

"No," she said confidently. "Never. I just…I don't know." She didn't know. I didn't know, either. "I can't control myself around you. I have never felt like this. I am just so scared that I…I…"

"You aren't going to get hurt," I said, but she shook her head.

"I know," she said, closing her eyes. "I am scared I am going to hurt you." There was a heavy silence in the air after she spoke. I didn't speak and she looked back out the window. After a few moments passed, she began speaking again. "The people I am supposed to love…I don't treat them right. I abandoned my mom. I let my brother work to take care of me and he ended up dying over it. And Van said I neglected him out entire relationship. I don't try to act like this, but it just happens. I don't want to hurt you. And if you don't love me, then you won't get hurt. I almost…I almost wish you didn't love me, because I know you do. I can feel it." I stared at her, stunned by her words. She wanted to protect _me? _From _her? _Did she care that much? Questions began buzzing inside my head, but there was only one that bared any importance.

"Do you love me?" I asked plainly in an even tone.

"So much," she replied. "So much…"

"Then you can't hurt me," I said. "You won't. I promise." I pulled her into my arms once again. She put her head on my shoulder once again. I could feel her soft breath on my neck, warm and sweet. Everything about her was warm and sweet. She had no idea how much she meant to me. No idea.

"You're so different, Johnny," she breathed. "So much different than all the other guys. I think that's why I love you." She paused settling in my arms before she spoke again. "I hope I never disgust you for the same reason." Again, her words confused me, but I didn't question her. I didn't want to know. I wanted to tell her that no matter what, she could never do anything that would disgust me, but something held me back. Something kept stopping me from speaking. Maybe I didn't want to break the silent perfection that was filling the hotel room. Maybe I was afraid that I would regret my words one day. I didn't know, but I held her tightly in my arms all the same.

"So, how about those plane tickets?" Alex, looking up at me with a goofy smile. I laughed, kissing the top of her head. We were going to do this. We were really going to do this.

"Anywhere you want to go," I said, just I said before. "We can buy one-way tickets to any place in the world. And we will come back when we're good in ready—no, when the media is ready." Alex laughed nodding.

"I don't care where we go, Johnny," she said sincerely. "Anywhere but here. But I would love to see the sun again. This cloudy, rainy shit is really ruining to my already crappy mood." I grinned, beginning to think about where we could escape the stress of our job and this fucked up publicity junket.

"Well, I was thinking we could go right back to California, but then I thought that would be a waste of a disappearance. I mean, the guys would find us in a week, tops." Alex nodded in agreement, laughing as we planned our getaway. "But I was thinking about it, and I really do need to visit my parents." Alex looked at me with wide eyes. I offered her a small smile.

"Your parents? You want me to go to Tennessee and meet your parents?" She said it as if I was asking her to cut off a limb or something. "Johnny, I don't know—"

"Come on, Al," I said. "Your part of the Jackass family. My folks have met all the other guys. It is only fair that they meet you." She nodded, beginning to warm up to the idea of coming to Knoxville. "You don't have to meet them as my girlfriend if you don't want to. I'll just tell them you're a friend. I'm sure they have seen all the articles that have been circulating about us, but I will tell them what is true and what's not—well, I'll tell them what I want them to think." Alex groaned.

"Great," she said. "They have probably read all the shitty articles about me. They probably think I am some trash, homewrecking whore." I laughed.

"No way," I said. "The tabloids say some fucked up shit about me, too. Mt parents know not to believe everything they read. And how could anyone believe that a pretty little thing like you was a homewrecker?" She chuckled, shaking her head. I thought it was strange how much she cared about making a good impression on my parents. Alex never cared about making a good impression on anyone. Alex was just Alex. But the way she wanted to look good in front of my folks—it was cute. It told me she cared. I was glad that she cared.

"I hope they like me," she said. I smiled.

"They'll _love _you," I said. "And I don't know if this will make you feel any better, but they hated Naomi." Alex laughed at my words. It was true. My dad said Naomi was using me and my mom tried to say as politely as she could that Naomi wasn't the kind of girl a mother wants to see her son marry. Both my parents agreed the engagement was way too soon and that I needed to wait, but I didn't listen to them. It took the whole cheating scandal—_and meeting Alex_—to convince me that they were right all along.

"I am basically Naomi's exact opposite," she said, smiling. "And if they hate Naomi, then we already have something in common."

"Actually, you have two things common with my parents." She raised an eyebrow at my words. "Well, you both hate Naomi," I continued, "and you both love me!" She laughed, shaking her head.

"You're so…"

"Gorgeous? Romantic? Perfect? Downright sexy?" I could have kept going, but Al just shook her head and laughed.

"I was thinking more along the lines of immature, but you're all those other things too," she said.

"Don't you know it," I assured. She just rolled her eyes. Honestly, I didn't know how she put up with me. Actually, I didn't know how _any _woman _ever _put up with me…

"Well you know, I have got a while before that interview," I said, casually changing the subject. "So, if there is anything you want to do, you know, with me, we could probably do that…" Alex sighed, pushing my back down on her bed.

"Just shut up and take your clothes off," she said. I smiled. I didn't need to be told twice.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

I groaned, reaching down to grab my jeans, which were lying on the floor of Al's hotel room. Alex and I had just finished up with our _unfinished business_, and I was trying to pull my clothes back on. Al was lying in bed, covering herself up with bed sheets as she silently watched me. She had this look on her face that told me she wasn't happy. Her lips were pouty and her eyes were heavy. I looked back at her, starting to wonder what I did wrong.

"Was it good for you?" I asked with a snicker as I pulled on my jeans. Alex's lips formed a small smile as she threw a pillow at me. I caught it and she stuck her tongue out at me. I chuckled, looking at the natural smile on her face. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was a mess of curls, her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes had softened. She bit her lip as I held the pillow she just threw tightly in my hands. "Seriously, what's wrong baby?" I asked honestly. She sighed looking at me with those big blue eyes of hers.

"I don't know," she breathed. "I don't want you to go." I smiled, tossing the pillow to the floor and crawling onto the bed. I laid beside her, nuzzling my head in her hair. She pressed her body close to mine. I took comfort in the fact that she wanted me to be here with her, and I would have loved to stayed with her all day, but Jeff had already given me a list of errands to run. I had to confirm my interview on the radio for later tonight, I had to make sure Bam and Dunn got to their interviews, and I had to pick up his dry cleaning. Okay, I didn't have to do that last one, but still, Jeff was treating me like his assistant instead of his partner. But I wasn't going to tell him no. I would do the list of chores he had for me today, but only because I knew I would be getting the hell out of London with Alex in a matter of days.

"Jeff needs me," I tried to explain, holding her. "He gave me a bunch of shit to do before my interview. And I need to go pick up our plane tickets." She turned to face me, a soft smile on her lips. I could feel the happiness radiating off of her. I could see it in her eyes. "It's just one more day, babe," I continued. "One more day and we will be out of here and we can do whatever we want. We can lay around all day and no one can tell us otherwise. No Jeff or the press or anyone else." Alex just looked at me, still smiling.

"That's a nice thought, Knox," she mused, putting her warm hand on my cheek. "But no matter what, we are always going to have to come back." She sighed, lying on her back. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, but she wasn't. She was right. We could never ditch this life. We could leave, but I would still be Johnny Knoxville and she would still be Alex Kidd. There were some things that we really wouldn't be able to escape, and this was one of those things. We couldn't escape what Hollywood had made us into. There was no undoing that.

"We will have to come back eventually," I said, stroking her back, "but not immediately." She looked at me, breathing evenly. I wondered what she was thinking. What we were doing—it was childish, to say the least. We were planning on leaving the country to avoid what we didn't want to do. We were running away from out problems. How was that the right thing to do? In the back of my mind, I knew what we were doing was wrong. It wasn't the mature, wise thing to do. But since when did I ever do the mature, wise thing? I closed my eyes, kissing Alex on the forehead. We were going to get major flack for leaving. We would get flack for staying. What could we do? I had no idea.

I slowly pulled away from Al, beginning to search the room for the rest of my clothes. I started scanning the floor for my shirt, but Al found it and threw it to me. I smiled, quickly dressing. Once I was done, I walked over to Al. I told her I loved her and she said the same. I said I wished I didn't have work to do and she just smiled. That smile was enough to get me through the rest of the day. And surprisingly enough, the rest of the day went by quickly. As soon as I left Alex's hotel room, I started on Jeff's errands. I was running around town from sun up to sun down. I was so busy that I almost forgot about my interview that night—_almost. _I tried not to focus on it and every time a thought about it passed through my head, I pushed it out as quickly as possible. And I managed get us some one-way tickets to Knoxville. We were leaving the next night. It was sudden, but I didn't want to wait. I couldn't wait any longer. All the press and all the drama—it was too much. This working vacation had turned out pretty shitty and I didn't know what else to do but leave. No matter how much Jeff was going to hate me afterwards, I was taking Alex and getting the hell out of England.

I hoped that the guys wouldn't be too angry when they found out we left. I knew they'd be pissed at first, but hopefully they would just get over it. If any of them were in the position Alex and I were, I'm sure they'd want to get away, too. And I was positive they would be suspicious about the whole thing. Alex and I leaving the country together—I was never going to hear the end of it. But a part of me wondered if they were already suspicious about Alex and I. We all joked about it and they all said Al was too smart to date a guy like me, but they had to be at least a little suspicious. And now that we were literally running away together, that would only raise their suspicions more.

As much as I knew Alex didn't want them to, I hoped that the guys would put things together for themselves. If Alex and I came out as a couple to the guys, things would be hard at first, but once everyone got used to it, things would be so much easier. We wouldn't have to sneak around behind their backs and hide our feelings when we were on set. But then again, what if one of the guys slipped something to the media by accident? Or on purpose, even? The press would tear us to shreds. But weren't they already doing that? I wasn't sure what to do. So I would just get through this last interview and the next day, I would forget about it all and leave.

The interview was set for eleven o'clock that night. The show was called Late Night with Richy Jackson. Some radio show that came on nightly that got a decent amount of viewers. This Richy Jackson guy interviewed up incoming celebrities and musicians who just started recording. I didn't know much else about the guy or the show and either did Jeff. He was just signing us up for any show he could get us on. I was hoping that Richy would be somewhat sympathetic towards me, seeing as how we were all in such a mess with the media, but I wasn't counting out it. Everyone in this industry is like a vulture. I wouldn't expect an interviewer to take any mercy on me.

So I showed up at the radio station at about half past ten. I was immediately introduced to Mr. Richy Jackson. He was a young guy with scruffy black hair and a patchy beard. He gave me a strong handshake before hitting me with the whole _I am so glad you could make it and we are so happy to have you _spiel. He gave me a vague description of what he would be asking me about when we went on the air. He said we would talk about Jackass and some other stuff. That scared me a little, but I didn't ask about it. Other stuff could have meant anything. Maybe he wanted to talk about movie projects or a possible third season of the show. Or maybe he wanted to drag Alex's name through the mud by asking about every detail that those magazines were publishing. I really hoped it was the latter.

It was about ten minutes to eleven and I was sitting on a couch in the radio station. Richy was buzzing around the building, flipping switches and messing with soundboards. He was pretty much ignoring me completely, which seemed like a good thing. I would rather be ignored. I needed time to chill out before this interview because to be honest, I was freaking out.

After a few more minutes passed, a woman walked into the station. She was holding a stack of papers in her arms and she looked like she was in a hurry. "Sorry I'm late!" she shouted to Richy, setting the papers down on a table and walking over to a soundboard. She began pulling her hair up into a messy bun as she played around with some switches on the board. She seemed to not have noticed me.

"Hey Johnny," Richy said, walking over to me. "This is Jenna. She is my co-host. My very, _very _late co-host…"

"I said I was sorry!" she shouted with a smile. "And besides, I was running errands for _you!" _Richy chuckled as she walked up to me. "Welcome to the show," she said, smiling, quickly shaking my hand. "The show is about to go on air. How about you get yourself situated over by the microphones?" I did as she said, watching as she put a bulky headset on. Richy did the same. Jenna began asking me about Jackass as we waited to go on air, but Richy stopped us.

"Hey there," he said, "save the small talk until we are on the air." I chuckled. Looking at the clock, Richy started flipping some switches on a sound board. "We are on in a minute. You know what to do Johnny. Just be yourself and answer the questions." Easy enough, but really it all depended on what exactly the questions were going to be. Before I could delve further into my own paranoia, Richy hit a few buttons and some music played. A red light flashed on, reading _On Air. _Here we go…

"It's Late Night With Richy Jackson, Richy and Jenna here, and it's time to welcome reality TV royalty, Johnny Knoxville from Jackass, in the studio!" I smiled and Jenna and Richy clapped. _Reality TV royalty._ I liked the way that sounded.

"Hello," I said, smiling, sitting in front of a chunky, metal microphone. Radio interviews were strange. During a television interview, you could see your audience—see what their reactions were to what you said, but on the radio, you had no idea what your audience was thinking. It was a weird feeling.

"Johnny, what is up?" Jenna said in an even tone, sitting close to her own microphone.

"You know, just hanging out here in England," I spoke slowly. I decided it wouldn't sound too good to say the only reason I was in the United Kingdom was to plug my show and I couldn't wait to leave, even though that was the truth. I don't think our British fans would be too excited to hear the truth about that one.

"Is it fun?" Jenna said, smiling. I raised my eyebrows. Nothing having to do with Jackass was all that fun at the moment, but again, I didn't think it would be too smart to say that on the air. So I just decided to lie about it. I was probably going to be lying about a lot of things during this interview…

"Oh yeah," I mumbled, laughing to myself. "I am having a great time here."

"You yanks, you are always laughing and having fun," Richy said. "Can't keep tabs on you guys."

"_Yanks,_" I said, trying out the local British slang. "Should I be offended?"

"No, we call all you people from the states yanks," Jenna said, chuckling. "We've got all types of slang for you people. You're a yank and a bloke. It's nice."

"Well, thank you," I said. "You're a pretty nice girl yourself…" I said laughing at my own words.

"Now, I've got to tell you Johnny," Richy said, "Jenna and I both watched the season two premier of Jackass, and I have to say that I loved it. But Jenna over there, she has a rather weak stomach." I laughed. _Perfect. _Jackass really wasn't a good show to watch if you were squeamish in the least bit. Actually, if you were squeamish, you should probably avoid watching Jackass at all costs.

"I did enjoy it, though!" Jenna protested, nodding her head. "It was very funny. But there were just a few things…"

"Did you puke?" I asked.

"Two things made me feel like I was going to vomit," she said. "The first one was with Steve-O, when he went out on the boat with Chris Pontius, and he had the fish hook..._ugh_." I laughed, nodding. Even I could understand I could understand how that could make someone sick.

"Yeah, that one was bad," I said, beginning to explain the stunt. "He kept trying to push this fish hook through his cheek, so he could be like human shark bait. But then the hook wouldn't go through and Chris had to help him push it through—it wasn't too pretty."

"I had to look away! Couldn't do it. You guys…you have to be insane to do that kind of stuff!" Jenna said, laughing. "And the second thing I couldn't handle was the horse incident…" I laughed, thinking about it. I had a feeling that one would have caused some sickness for some of our viewers.

"Yeah, if you have a weak stomach and you see Chris with a horse, you should probably look away from the camera," I said. We went to a horse ranch for a bit and one thing led to another, and Chris ended up drinking some horse semen. How about that for entertainment?

"I really don't know how you guys do this stuff," Richy said. "I don't even have a weak stomach, but that was utterly disgusting! I could never do that gross stuff…"

"I really never do the grosser stuff," I said, shaking my head. "I just kind of stand in places and let stuff come at me."

"Is that because you are one of the tougher guys?" Jenna asked.

"No, not at all," I replied. "It's because I am so uncoordinated I can't do anything else." They laughed, but it was true. When stunts required standing in one place, I was the guy Jeff called. Whether I was going to get hit by a bull or a wave of water, standing in one place was pretty much the only thing I was good for on that show. "I'm really not tough at all."

"I think all you guys are pretty tough," Jenna said. "You can say you're not, but you do stuff that would _terrify _me!" I chuckled. People told us that all the time, but I would never be able to see myself as a tough guy. Anyone could do what we were doing. We were human. We got nervous before filming just like anyone else would. But we always went out there and did it. We aren't tough, we're committed.

"Well, I think all of you guys are awesome," Richy said. "And speaking of your co-stars, we've got to talk about the newbie. Everyone who watched the premiere seems to have an opinion about Alexandra Kidd. Some fans didn't want her added to the cast, but some people love her. Some girls are saying she empowers women, some are saying she degrades them. I watched the premiere and I thought she fit like a charm, but others aren't as convinced. Any comments, Johnny?" Of course he had to bring up Al. He had to…

"Well, I can tell you she fits in with the cast perfectly. She's like a guy!" I said, laughing off the question. "But I think she's great. She's sweet, she's funny, and I wish people would leave her alone."

"I totally agree with you Johnny," Richy began, "but our listeners really want to know, straight to the chase…" I sighed, already knowing where this question was headed. "Are you banging her?" I laughed nervously, shaking my head. Honestly, I was pretty upset about the question—_who did these interviewers think they were?_—but I couldn't let the interviewers and listeners know that. I just had to play it off.

"Way to switch gears, Rich," Jenna said, laughing. She was right about that one.

"The listeners—and everyone else in the world—want to know!" Richy argued. Well, he was right too. As much as I didn't want to talk about Alex, I guess it was a good idea for me to start speaking up about the whole situation. At least this way everyone would know my side of the story—even if my side was a total lie.

"Well, I am sorry to disappoint you guys, but no," I said, quickly answering the question. "I am just friends with Al." I took a deep breath, feeling as though I answered the question in a calm manner. I was pretty proud of myself on that one.

"What about the other guys?" Jenna said, not letting the topic die like I wanted it to. "She seems close with Steve-O. And Bam's got quite the reputation with girls…"

"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "She's not like that. She's a relatively good girl."

"You guys must have gotten pretty close," Richy said, trying to push me until I said something juicy about my relationship with Alex.

"I stood by her a few times," I said, shrugging. Jenna and Richy laughed. "Like I said before, we're really good friends. I don't know what else to say…"

"Well, I'd like to fancy Jenna and I pretty good friends," Richy said, "but I have never gotten hammered with her at a night club, only to bring her back to my place. And I know this is old news, but it still happened—"

"I think people made that to be a bigger deal than it actually was," Jenna said. "I mean, don't we all have that friend that we go out with and get a little tipsy and then make out some? It's just being _friendly_."

"We had a few drinks and she came to my house," I said, agreeing with Jenna. "She comes over to my house a lot. And sometimes I go to her house. Doesn't mean we're screwing. I know people assume that Alex is dumb because she is on Jackass but she is not dumb enough to get involved with any of the guys on the cast. Trust me." Pretty convincing argument, if I do say so myself.

"Well, I will take your word for it," Richy said, "but only because I don't know any sane man that would lie about having sex with that woman. I would be showing her off everywhere I went…" I sighed. He had no idea. "But, let's talk about a woman we know you were screwing—Naomi Simmons." I groaned. Did we have to talk about her?

"When you two broke up, it was quite public and quite sad!" Jenna said. "You two were such a lovely couple! And when people started saying she was cheating—I couldn't believe it! Want to set the records straight?" I sighed. I had two choices. I could either tear Naomi to shreds, or I could protect her. What reason did I have to protect that woman? She never protected me. I took a deep breath, making my decision.

"You know, you shouldn't believe everything you read," I said. "Naomi and I just weren't working out. It was no one's fault. I was busy with work and she had her own life. The marriage was too rushed. So we called it off." I couldn't believe I just protected that girl. But it was done. No need to stir up old drama.

"So she wasn't cheating?" Jenna said.

"You know, before you answer that, you _do _know people were saying that you were cheating on Naomi with Alex, right?" Richy said. I sighed. This guy wanted me to give him some gossip. I just wasn't going to do it.

"A lot of people were hurt in that situation," I said. "If someone says something about me, I tend to just let it roll off my back, but now families and friends are getting involved. I just hate seeing people get hurt—"

"Well, there is this rumor floating around about a particular friend getting involved," Jenna said. "Does Alex have a problem with Naomi? Because a few people are saying there is a conflict going on between them…"

"Alex is just a concerned friend," I replied, honestly this time. "Naomi and Al barely know each other. They only met once or twice. It isn't like they have some huge rivalry going on. It's not like that."

"Fair enough," Richy said, preparing to switch topics. "Well, what do you know about this guy…Van Maverick?" I sighed, growing silent. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they knew about him. It wasn't fair that everyone would only hear his side of the story because Alex was too afraid to tell her side. I didn't want to talk about Van Maverick. I'd rather shove a fish hook through my cheek—_literally._ "Did I strike a chord?" Richy said, breaking me from my train of thought. I quickly shook my head.

"No, it's just…" I sighed, not sure what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but I wasn't sure if I should. Finally, I took a deep breath. _Screw it. _Anyone listening deserved to know what that guy was really like. "He is a total piece of shit, that guy." Jenna and Richy both laughed, but I kept a straight face.

"Johnny Knoxville's finally got an opinion!" Richy said. "So tell me, John, what did this guy do to get on your bad side?"

"He didn't do anything to me, but what he is doing to Alex is insane," I said, speaking quickly. "What kind of man sells stories about an ex-girlfriend to the media? You know, I have only talked to the guy once, but he was a total asshole. I wouldn't believe a word he says."

"He has been telling magazines some pretty candid stories about Alex," Jenna said. "He talks about her family, her childhood—it sounds like she has been some pretty dark stuff."

"She's a really strong person," I said. Suddenly, I got this weird feeling. It was like I was talking about Alex and I shouldn't be. I decided to just try and wrap up this conversation about Alex on my own. "So everybody better go home and watch her on the show because she's awesome!"

"Good segue, Johnny," Richy said with a smile. "But that is why you're here, I suppose. Everyone really needs to go home and watch Jackass if they missed it! Because I am _positive _that this will be the show that everyone is talking about." With that, Richy flipped a few switches, cueing some music to play. The red _On Air _sign turned black. Just like that, our interview was over. I took a sigh of relief. Were interviews always this terrible, or was this a new thing for me?

"You're a natural, mate!" Richy said, taking off his headphones. "You did great. Thanks for the awesome interview…"

"Thanks for having me," I replied.

"Pleasure was all ours," said Jenna with a smile, taking off her own headphones and putting them around her neck. "We'd love to have you back some time. If you are ever back in England, be sure to give us a call."

"Sure thing," I said ginning at her. I was so busy thinking about how to get out of England that I never considered coming back. I never considered coming back to any of this. I just wanted to get away for awhile. Returning was something I wasn't going to be thinking about for a long time.

I left the radio station, driving home in the darkness of the night. It was about midnight when I got back to the hotel. I can't lie—the whole time all I could do was celebrate that it was going to be my last night in this country. It was going to be my last night on this press junket. Al and I would be able to do whatever we wanted. We could relax, we could raise hell…it didn't matter. I couldn't wait until it didn't matter what we did. I couldn't wait to be _home._

I walked into the hotel, deciding that I would leave Alex with her plane ticket and then go to bed. Maybe I could get some sleep. I was contemplating this as I walked to Al's room. But when I got there and knocked on the door, I heard someone else was in there with her. That was weird. Really weird. Who would be in there at midnight? I furrowed my eyebrows, continuing to knock.

"Alex?" I asked, knocking harder on the door. I grabbed the handle of the door, giving it a turn. To my surprise, the door was unlocked. I opened it, looking to see what was going on it there. "Alex?" I repeated, stepping into her room. I saw that she was in there with Steve. They were sitting on the floor, slouched over and laughing like crazy. The room was a mess. There was shit all over the place. I wasn't sure what to make of the scene. I guess it wasn't that weird, but something just seemed wrong.

"Hey guys," I said slowly, walking over to where they sat. Steve looked up at me, still laughing. That is when I saw it. He had that look in his eyes, that look he got after a night of partying. A night of drugging. When I looked at Alex, I saw that she had the same look in her eyes. I sighed, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. I couldn't help myself. Acting like Alex's friend went out the window. I was in full-on boyfriend mode.

"What the hell did you guys do?" I yelled. Neither of them paid any attention. They just laid on the floor, laughing like maniacs, blathering on about nothing. I sighed, grabbing the collar of Steve's shirt and yanking him up.

"Whoa m-man," he said, hanging on to me. He was too fucked up to stand up straight. I groaned, dragging him to the door of the hotel room. Honestly, I didn't care if he could walk or stand. I just wanted him _out. _I felt bad for acting this way. Steve was my friend, but all I could think about was Alex. It was his fault she was laying in her hotel room, tripping on God knows what. This was _his _fault.

"Go to your hotel room, man," I hissed, pushing him out the door. He stumbled out into the hallway, leaning against the walls for support. He would find his way to his room…it was only down the hallway. And if he didn't, he would pass out and hopefully someone would find him. But at the moment, I wasn't worrying about Steve. I was pretty focused on Alex.

I closed the door, returning to the spot where Alex was sitting on the floor. I sat down on my knees, grabbing her by the shoulders. I looked in her eyes and found nothing there. She was gone. I groaned. I knew this would happen. I knew it. She shouldn't have been hanging out with Steve. I shouldn't have let her hang around him. He was a drug addict and she was at a point in her life where she would do whatever numbed the pain for a minute. I was angry with her. I was disappointed. How could she do this to herself? How could she do this to me? Going out and getting high with Steve…who was she anymore? I shook my head, letting go of her frail shoulders.

"What were you thinking, Alex?!" I shouted. "Did you really think going out and getting high with Steve was going to fix anything? Or solve any of your problems? I thought you were smarter than this! You _are _smarter than this!" I stood up, pacing back and forth across the room. She just sat there, laughing. She was too high to care what I had to say.

"Alex…" I said, turning to her, shaking my head. She just laughed.

"I…I can't f-feel…_anything!" _she said, lying back on the floor, laughing even harder. "It feels awesome Johnny! Like I'm flying! Like I'm a cloud!" I sat down on the foot of her bed, staring at her as she laughed. She was finally happy. All I wanted was for her to be happy. But seeing her like this…it was too much. It was just too much.

**A/N: Sorry guys! I know it took me a **_**long **_**time for me to update, but I have been really busy. I am still working on this story all the time—I didn't forget about it! And thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. And to the anon who got my Rad Girls reference…you rock! Thanks for reading everyone. I'll try to get the next chapter up quicker!**


	15. Leaving on a Jet Plane (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Fifteen: Leaving on a Jet Plane (Alex)_

I really fucked up. I got high. I'm not going to lie about it and say I didn't. It wasn't my proudest moment, of course, but I think I definitely could have been worse off. And honestly, I wasn't expecting Johnny to react the way he did. I wasn't expecting him to react at all. I didn't get why it was such a big deal. I guess I just wasn't used to it—having someone care about me.

I went out with Steve-O that night. I knew it probably wasn't the best idea, but I didn't really care. Steve didn't know it, but it was going to be my last night in London. I had barely had any fun since we landed in England, so I might as well enjoy my last night in London. So while Johnny and the guys were out on various interviews, Steve and I grabbed a taxi and went to some nightclub. Steve told me he had been friends with the owner since they were kids. Said he always promised Steve a drink if he ever came back to London. Steve was making good on the offer.

I don't really remember much about the club. I suppose it was a lot like any other club I had been to in LA: big, loud, full of drunk people who were looking to get laid before the night was over. Steve's friend—the club owner, I forgot his name—was there. He got us some drinks on the house. He told us we could go up to the VIP section if we wanted to. I remember Steve and me laughing giddily like little kids who were getting to sit at the grownups table for the first time. We weren't _very important people_. We were just ordinary people. That is what made it all so exciting. So we went up to the VIP room. It was a crowded little room. Girls all over the place, but that was to be expected. Drinks everywhere, smoke wafting through the air. Whatever we wanted, they had it. So we drank and we smoked and I didn't think much about it.

After an hour or two I had lost Steve in the crowd of people. I was feeling dizzy and I didn't want to go looking for him, but I had to. So I stumbled through the crowded room, looking for Steve. It only took me a couple of minutes to track him down. He was sitting on a couch, hovering over a glass table. He was surrounded by a semicircle of people, all watching him. I raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the couch where he sat with the club owner and other well dressed people. _What is going on? _I thought, watching the scene. That's when Steve looked up at me, a wild glint in his bloodshot eyes. He was holding a rolled up twenty dollar bill in his shaking hands. There was a white residue on the table. I bit my lip, knowing instantly what was going on.

I guess I wasn't really shocked. This is what happened at nightclubs. And I would be lying if I told you that I didn't know Steve was doing coke. We all knew he was doing coke, we just never did anything about it. Who was I to tell Steve what to do with himself? But seeing Steve do a line right in front of me, my mind was blank. I just stared, watching him do line after line. And when he was done, he sat up, slightly swaying from side to side, a goofy smile on his face. In the strangest way, he looked innocent. Blissfully happy. I wanted to be happy, too. So when he reached out to me, handing me the rolled up bill, I didn't even question it. I sat down beside him, setting up a line of my own.

It had been years. I hadn't touched this stuff since I just moved out to LA. But putting the bill to the table, inhaling the powdery substance, I didn't feel guilty. I didn't have time to feel guilty. A familiar warmth and lightheadedness washed over me almost instantaneously. I felt numb. I felt nothing. I loved that painless feeling. And went it started to go away, I did another line. And another. My heart thumped quickly in my chest. I felt a never ending adrenaline rush. I didn't want it to stop. In that moment, nothing mattered. I didn't have a care in the world. It was like after every line I did, some weight lifted from my shoulders. It was an amazing feeling.

At the end of the night, the club owner called a taxi to pick up Steve and me. I don't remember much more. We were so fucked up, but it felt so good. For once I wasn't worrying about things I couldn't control. For once, I wasn't regretting my past. For once, I was completely free. But then I woke up and I didn't feel good anymore. The next morning…it was hell.

I woke up with a terrible pounding in my head. I was sleeping on the floor of my hotel room for some reason and I felt like someone had just sucker punched me in the face five times in a row. Everything hurt. My head hurt. My eyes hurt. My arms hurt and my legs hurt. And when I sat up from my spot on the floor and saw Johnny looking down at me with heavy, disappointed eyes—well, that hurt worst of all.

"Hey," I said in a raspy voice, standing up. My joints ached when I moved. My stomach ached when I finally stood. Johnny looked at me and rubbed his head, completely silent. He didn't help me up, not that I expected him to. He looked like he didn't even want to see me, like he was disgusted with me. I looked at my feet, feeling ashamed for no reason at all. This was weird. This was…_awkward. _I bit my lip, refusing to look up from my feet. Why did I feel like this? Why did I feel guilty? I didn't do anything to him. I didn't do anything to anyone except myself, but if that was the case, why was Johnny looking at me with such a hurt in his eyes? Why did I feel like I had just ripped out his heart? Why was he being so silent? My head pounded. I felt like I was going to be sick.

After a while, Johnny finally sighed and spoke a few words. "What happened?" he asked in a quiet voice, his words shattering the silence in the room like a mallet hitting a mirror. His voice wasn't accusing or judging, just disappointed. I hated it. I would rather have him yell at me. It would have been easier if he was just angry with me. I could deal with angry and upset, but the disappointment in his voice was breaking my heart. He was making me feel completely worthless, but for some reason I didn't feel an ounce of anger. Just guilt. A lot of guilt.

"I…I…" I began in an attempt to respond to Johnny's question, but I couldn't come up with an answer that held any validity. I went out, that was all. I had a good time. I didn't do anything I thought I would regret. I didn't cheat on him or something. I just had a few drinks. And then I had a few lines. It was no big deal, really. A few years ago, a few lines just meant it was Saturday night. But now with Johnny sitting across from me, a few lines seemed like a lot more. I could have tried to explain this to him, but it would have come out wrong. I didn't know how I wanted it to come out. Any way I put it would have seemed wrong. So I just took a deep breath and looked up at him, waves of nausea flooding over me. "I don't know," I murmured.

"You don't know?" Johnny said, a sudden flash of anger in his eyes. _Anger. _I could deal with that. I have dealt with that. Dating Van, I dealt with anger all the time. We shouted and fought every night, all night long. But just as I began to accept the anger in Johnny's eyes, it evaporated. It was replaced with some kind of cynical happiness. He laughed, shaking his head. "You don't know," he said with a sigh, looking out the window. "Of course you don't…"

"What is that supposed to mean?" I snarled, stepping closer to him, feeling like he was judging me. Johnny raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down like I was some stranger he had never spoken to before. Like I disgusted him. Like I was nothing to him. The way he looked at me…it hurt.

"It's just another one of your excuses," he said, shaking his head. "_You don't know. _Why should you? Why should you be accountable for anything you do?" As he began questioning me, he spoke faster and faster, scrutinizing me with his eyes. "So tell me Alex, whose fault is it this time? Who's to blame for you going out and acting like a complete fuck up? Is it my fault? Or Steve's? Or are we going to go with the media this time?"

"Stop it!" I shouted. I was surprised by his sudden aggressiveness. Where was this coming from? I went to a club with a friend. Since when was that such a bad thing? Why did he care what I did with myself? It was none of his business. It was none of _anyone's _business. "Since when did you become my father?" I shouted back. "Last time I checked, I didn't have people telling me what to do."

"Well, maybe it is time someone tells you what to do," he said without missing a beat. "You know, I bet I can guess exactly what happened last night. You went out with Steve. He probably brought you to some shithole where a bunch of shitty people hang out. And you got drunk with them and you got high with them. So tell me, what were you on? Heroin? Crack? Cocaine? Can you even remember?"

"Please Johnny!" I hissed, turning away from him. My chest felt tight. I was upset that he was saying these things to me. I was upset that I let another person into my life that was just going to end up hurting me. Mostly, I was upset that everything he was saying was true. I was a mess. But still, he had no right to try and tell me what to do. "I didn't know you such a saint yourself!" I continued, refusing to face him once again.

"I never said I was!" he shouted back, putting his hand on my shoulder and turning me around. "But what the hell, Al? Going out with people you don't know in a country you have never lived in? You thought that was a good idea? Taking drugs strangers are giving you? You could have gotten hurt. You could have gotten killed—"

"I am a grown woman—" I tried to say, but Johnny quickly cut me off with a snicker.

"You are twenty-two," Johnny snorted. "Tell me about being a grown-up in ten years." I couldn't believe him. How could he say that I wasn't an adult? I had been on my own for a big chunk of my life and he knew that. He was making no sense.

"You are fucking joking!" I shouted, throwing my arms down by my sides. "I had to grow up before most people had to! I have taken care of myself my entire life!" Johnny rolled his eyes, unimpressed by anything I had to say.

"You call this taking care of yourself?" he laughed cynically. "Getting shitfaced every night? Ruining your body? Ruining your life? Well then, you are doing an excellent job of taking care of yourself, Alex. _Excellent!"_

"Whatever Johnny," I groaned. I couldn't believe he was doing this. Over nothing! What did he want from me? An apology? Because he wasn't going to get one of those anytime soon. I might have done some bad things, but why was that any of his concern? Why should I feel guilty? It was my body…my life! I could do whatever I wanted to. I wasn't going to have some man tell me what to do and when to do it—not Van and not Jeff and not Steve and _definitely _not Johnny, the guy who told me he loved me no matter what. How stupid was I to believe that lie! I looked at him, my eyes blazing with anger. He was judging me. I could feel it. Who was he to judge me like this? It wasn't right.

"You know, I might be a fuck up, but at least I admit it," I hissed. "That is the difference between you and me. I know what a loser I am. You are in denial or something! You think you are some success story because you got on some shitty TV show? Well you're not! _We're not! _I'm still the same washed up addict I was when I was living in New York and you're still…_you!"_

Johnny stared at me, a blank expression on his face. Uninterested. Uncaring. Jaded. I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I was walking a thin line between defending myself and hurting someone I cared about. I took a deep breath, returning Johnny's emotionless glare with an equally cold one. I was terrible at this—relationships, companionship, all of it. I was so afraid to lose myself. I didn't want to be told what to do. I didn't want to lose any piece of me. But did that mean I had to ignore good advice? I was such an idiot. Such an idiot…but it was too late now. I couldn't change what I had already said. So I was silent.

"Yeah, Al," Johnny said in a quiet voice. "I guess you're right." I wondered if I had hurt him. I didn't mean to—or did I? I wasn't sure. I just wanted to make him understand. I wanted him to get where I was coming from like he always did. I just stood there, wondering what Johnny was feeling as he walked to the door of my hotel room. He was going. I didn't want him to go, at least not like this. I felt my stomach wheeze with pain. Was this our first actual fight as a couple? Was it my fault?

"Johnny, wait," I said, walking towards him. He had his hand on the door knob. He turned to me, the same expressionless look on his face. "Johnny, I…" I started, unsure of what to say. "I love you." He shook his head, laughing. Laughing in my face. He turned away from me.

"You love me?" he said cynically. "You don't even love yourself, Alex. You wouldn't be doing this if you did." Johnny sighed, pulling the door open. I felt sick watching him go. But when he flung the door open, he hesitated, his body suddenly tensing up. _What was going on? _I walked up behind Johnny to see what had freaked him out, and that is when I saw it. Dunn was on the other side of the door, a shocked expression on his face.

_Shit._

It was over. All these months of trying to hide a new relationship—it was all over. I was pretty positive that Ryan had heard the whole thing. He was standing right outside the door for who knows how long. And besides, that look on his face had told me everything. He heard it all. My head pounded. I felt woozy. I couldn't help myself. I ran to the bathroom, dropping to my knees and hurling in the toilet.

This felt like a new low. I felt like I was losing everything I had gained in the past months. This rollercoaster ride that working on Jackass was had come crashing to the ground without any warning. Johnny walked into the bathroom, sighing and kneeling down beside me. He held back my hair, rubbing my back as I heaved with sickness. "It'll be alright, baby," he whispered. "It'll all be alright." It wasn't going to be alright. It wasn't. I didn't want any of this. I didn't want to fight with Johnny and I didn't want Ryan to know about Johnny and I and I just wanted to go back and time and fix all of this. But it didn't really matter what I wanted. This was reality. I was going to have to face it. I made this mess. Now I had to clean it up.

After a few minutes of incessant heaving, I managed to calm myself. Johnny helped me to my feet. He gave me a serious look, wordlessly asking me if I was okay. I just nodded and he left the bathroom. I ran the sink, splashing some cool water on my face. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. It was just Johnny and Ryan, the same people I had been working with for months. I opened my eyes, looking into the mirror for a moment. I saw my own pale skin. The rings under my eyes. I was like a faded version of myself. I sighed, walking back into my hotel room, a heavy feeling in my chest. I had to face them. I had to face myself.

When I walked back into the room, I saw Ryan sitting in the single chair in the room and Johnny standing uncomfortably by the door. I sat down on the foot of the bed, across from Ryan. No one spoke. Johnny didn't come sit down next to me. I wondered if it was because he didn't want to be too close to me in front of Ryan or if it was because he was still mad at me. Probably a combination of the two. But at the moment, Johnny didn't matter. Dunn did.

"So, how much did you hear?" Johnny said, leaning against the door. Ryan looked nervously back and forth between Johnny and me. I felt bad for him. I bet he wished he hadn't overheard my fight with Johnny. He never wanted to be the middleman. He never got involved with fights between cast mates and he never got in fights himself. He probably didn't want to be involved with any of this, but here we all were.

"Uh…I didn't hear anything," Ryan said, eyes wide. I sighed, crossing my arms. "No really," he continued, trying to convince me that he was being honest. "I didn't hear a word. I have no idea what is going on, but I better get going. I have an…uh…interview…"

"That's bullshit and you—" I began to hiss, but Johnny cut me off before I could say something I would regret.

"Just tell us how much you heard," he said, stepping closer to me. I took a deep breath. I knew Ryan didn't do anything bad. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I still couldn't help but the resent the fact that he knew about Johnny and me. Johnny put his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, a little surprised by his actions. He shook his head at my—his silent way of telling me know to lash out at Dunn. I knew, I knew. Ryan was our friend. He was on our side. All the guys were on our side. But still, I felt the constant urge to defend myself and my relationship with Johnny, even when it was unnecessary.

Johnny and I both stared at Ryan, making him squirm uncomfortably in his seat. We were totally putting him on the spot. It was clear that he just wanted to say the right thing, but we wanted the honest truth. So, after a few minutes of silence, he finally began to speak. "Well, I heard you guys fighting," Ryan said slowly. "And then I heard something about _love_…I could have been hearing things though…"

"_Fuck," _I groaned, taking a deep breath. Ryan's eyes got wide once again and he began shaking his head, preparing to retract his last statement.

"Actually, I am pretty sure I was just hearing things," Ryan said, quickly standing up from his chair. "I, uh, won't say anything about this. Not that there is anything to say in the first place—"

"No, Ryan," Johnny said. "Sit down. We need to talk." _We need to talk._ God, he sounded like someone's parent. And Ryan reacted as if he was taking orders from his dad; he instantly sat back down. "I think Alex and I have some explaining to do…" Johnny said. I bit my tongue. I didn't want to explain anything. But Johnny was right—now that Ryan knew, we were going to have to fess up about everything. Dunn fidgeted in his seat, his eyes still flickering from Johnny to me. Johnny sat down beside me, keeping a comfortable distance. I could only imagine what was going through Ryan's mind.

"Okay," Johnny said, trying to think of a way to explain everything as quickly and painlessly as possible. "Well…Al and I…we've been—we _are_…we're dating." Ryan's jaw dropped, reminding me of a cartoon character. Even though he had overheard Johnny and I and knew there was something was going on between us, he was still shocked to hear Johnny say it. I was dating him and I was shocked to hear him say it. After spending all this time trying to hide our relationship, it felt weird to hear him say we were dating out loud. _We're dating…_wow.

"You're—no way!" Ryan exclaimed, shaking his head. "You're lying. There is no way that you two…are…" he trailed off, looking at Johnny and me with a distressed expression on his face. "Holy shit," he said after a moment. "You two _are _dating." He sat back, rubbing his head. "This is just…wow." I wondered if I was the only one feeling extremely uncomfortable in this situation. "How long have you been…together?" Ryan continued. Johnny and I exchanged looks.

"Around three months," I spoke. Ryan's eyes got wide again. I was beginning to wish we had just let him leave the first time he tried to.

"Three months!" he said, completely shocked. "You guys have been dating for three months and you haven't told anyone? How is that possible? I mean, I know we all joked about it, but I never actually thought you two were a… you know…couple…" I shrugged. This was too awkward. I knew it was going to be like this. That is why I didn't want this to happen all along. "Why haven't you guys told anyone?" Ryan asked. I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Well, we thought it would be weird," Johnny said, answering for me.

"Looks like we were right about that one," I mumbled. Johnny sighed.

"Alex was a little _worried _that you guys might see her differently if you found out about our relationship," Johnny said. I bet Ryan was cringing at the word _relationship_. To be honest, I was too. "And it was a really bad time. Naomi and I were in a mess and Alex was still new to the cast…"

"Wait," Dunn said, having a sudden epiphany. "The thing with you and Naomi…did you leave her for…_Alex?"_ I groaned, crossing my arms. I knew it! _I knew it! _If our friend thought Johnny's breakup with Naomi had anything to do with me, then of course the media would think the same thing. I put my hand on my throbbing head, feeling exasperated with the whole situation.

"No," I hissed at Ryan in a low tone. "He left Naomi because she was a cheating whore—"

"Calm down, Al," Johnny said in a stern tone. Calm down. Just calm down. He said it like it was so easy. Did he realize that we had successfully ruined our relationship in a matter of minutes? Did he realize that my already shitty reputation was going to get even shittier? I rolled my eyes. Dunn smiled.

"You two aren't a very convincing couple," he said with a laugh. Well, he was right about that. "I knew you two would hang out from time to time, but for the most part, I thought you hated him, Al." I chuckled. Well, we did hate each other when we first met, but things change. "I have no idea how you guys put up with each other," Ryan continued. "Johnny, you're an asshole, and Al hates everyone. But hey, whatever floats your boat…"

"I don't hate everyone!" I said defensively. Ryan and Johnny exchanged looks and laughed. "I don't! I'm just not very _patient _with people, okay?"

"Fine," Ryan said, raising his hands up in defeat. "But either way, Johnny doesn't seem like your type." He laughed immediately after saying that. "I can't believe this! You two dating…this is insane! But it makes sense. Johnny couldn't go three months without a girlfriend. I should have known something weird was going on." I laughed and Johnny raised an eyebrow.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Johnny asked quickly.

"I don't know how you would function without a chick telling you what to do," Ryan said, smiling. "And I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"Oh, I'm sure," Johnny replied, shaking his head.

"God," Ryan continued, still looking a little shocked. "It is going to take awhile for me to get used to this. Wait until the guys hear about—" He stopped midsentence, probably seeing the almost instantaneous grief that appeared on my face. _Here we go, _I thought. Ryan was going to go blathering about this to everyone. Before I we knew it, magazines would be printing stories about Johnny and me and people would be talking about us nonstop. I anxiously bit the same spot inside my cheek, tasting blood in my mouth.

"You can't," Johnny said in deadpan voice. "Seriously. You can't say a word to anyone."

"Oh," Ryan said, nodding. "I should have figured. Well in that case, it's in the vault." I was glad that he said he wouldn't tell anyone, but I wasn't convinced that he would do as he said he would. "I just—I mean, I don't get why. The media is already saying you two are dating. So what if you actually are? I mean, they'll all shut up eventually…" I sighed.

"I don't want to be seen as Johnny Knoxville's girlfriend for the rest of my life," I said, trying to explain it to him.

"Actually, she's just embarrassed to be seen with me," Johnny said, smiling.

"Shut up," I said, pushing him playfully.

"Make me," he replied, pushing me back.

"Stop it you guys!" Ryan complained. "Stop acting like a couple! It's weird!" I laughed.

"Well then leave," Johnny said, smiling. "Or we'll start making out…"

"I'm out," Ryan said, immediately standing up. "Seeing you two get all frisky is something I can live the rest of my life without seeing." I rolled my eyes, chuckling. "Oh, and Al. The reason I came by here in the first place was to tell you that Jeff got this publicist he wants you to talk to. He flew him out here and everything. He is supposed to be here this afternoon."

"Are you serious?" I asked. Dunn nodded and I groaned. _What? A publicist? _I swear that Jeff was doing shit just piss me off at this point. Meeting a publicist was something I really didn't need to do—especially on the day I was supposed to leave England. "Fuck," I murmured. "Don't you think Jeff could have told me about this plan a little before hand? I don't even want a publicist. I mean, Jeff sets us up on interviews. He is like my publicist. Why do I have to get another one?"

"Because Jeff says you do," Ryan said. "And the guy he called…his name is Skip Arnold. I hear he is a real hard ass, so have fun with that." I groaned and Ryan laughed. "Don't say I didn't warn you!" he shouted before leaving. I sighed, lying back on my bed, covering my face with my hands. What a crappy day. I felt terrible, I fought with Johnny, and now all this shit with Ryan. I just wanted this whole mess to go away.

"You okay?" Johnny said, still sitting there. I removed my hands from my face, looking at the ceiling. Was I okay? Why was the seemingly simple question so difficult for me to answer?

"I don't know," I said honestly. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "Are we okay?" Johnny sighed, looking at me. He looked at me for a while with that same, heavy look in his eyes. Not angry, not upset, just sad. And then I felt the guilt. I was making him sad. I didn't want to hurt him, but I knew I would. I told him I would do this to him one day, but seeing that sad look in his eyes was almost too much for me.

"Alex, I…" he trailed off, taking another moment to gather his thoughts. "You don't realize how important you are. Not just to me, but to all of us. The whole cast. If something happened to you over something as stupid as a night out with Steve…" he looked away from me, shaking his head. "Just take care of yourself, okay?" I nodded my head and he gave me a small smile. I bit the same spot inside my cheek, throwing my arms around him. I laid my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. I felt his hands settle on my back. For a moment, everything was okay.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled into Johnny's shoulder. I spoke in such a small voice, I wasn't sure if he heard me. But it didn't really matter. He knew how I felt. He always knew.

"Do you trust him?" Johnny asked after awhile. I pulled away from him. "Ryan, I mean? Do you trust him?" I thought about it for a minute. Of course I trusted the guy. He never did anything that would cause me to lose his trust for him, so why should I worry?

"Yeah, I trust him," I decided. "He wouldn't do anything to hurt us. He's a good friend." It was true. Although I initially resented the fact that he overhead Johnny and I talking, I became less and less angry about it as time passed. I still wished he didn't know, but if I had to pick a member of the cast to find out about Johnny and me, I would probably pick Ryan. He hated the media as much as we did and he hated confrontation. He wouldn't go and blather anything to anyone. I really did trust him.

"You're right," Johnny said. "He's a good guy." I sighed, putting my head on his shoulder.

"You're a good guy, too," I spoke. "A really good guy." He smiled and I bit my lip, looking at my feet. "I know I have my problems. I know I am still young and it's only been a couple of months and I am a complete asshole, but I really do love you Johnny." I didn't want to look back up at him. Admitting I loved him might be stupid and regrettable and completely immature, but I couldn't deny the way I felt. So I would go on being immature. It was something I was always good at, anyways.

"I love it when you say that," Johnny said, his hand grasping mine tightly. "And I love you too, Al. I love you a lot." I rested my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around my waste. I immediately felt comfortable and safe. Maybe I didn't completely understand my relationship with Johnny, but did it matter? I just wanted him to hold me. I wanted to forget about everything. I just wanted to be happy…

A knock at the door made Johnny and I jump about ten feet apart. After it happened, Johnny and I immediately started laughing. "This is never going to get easy for us, is it?" he said, smiling. I shook my head, walking over to the door. If anything, hiding our relationship would only get harder as time passed. But it wasn't the right time to come clean. Not now.

I opened the door and saw Ryan standing on the other side. I sighed, leaning against the frame of the door. "What do you want from me, Dunn?" I said, groaning dramatically. "Didn't you get enough entertainment from us for one day?" He laughed, shaking his head.

"I got more than enough, thank you very much," he said. "But I just came here to warn you…you know that publicist guy I told you about? The one that is supposed to be here in a few hours?"

"I was trying to forget about him…"

"He's here." I grimaced. "I am sorry," Ryan continued. "Jeff was surprised too, but he caught an early flight or something, I don't know. But, uh, Jeff wants you to go meet him." I brushed my hair out of my face, taking a deep breath. I really wasn't in the mood to be judged by some guy who was going to tell me what and what not to do with my life, but it didn't seem like I had much of a choice.

"When am I supposed to go meet this guy?" I asked weakly.

"Like…now," Ryan replied. I sighed. "Sorry," he said again.

"Don't be," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder and shaking my head. "It's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault it's mine. I am the one that fucked up my reputation. But thanks for giving me the heads up, I guess." Ryan smiled.

"I've got your back, _Johnny Knoxville's Girlfriend_," Ryan said, laughing. I punched his arm.

"Shut up," I demanded. He was so immature. They were all immature.

"Whatever, _Mrs. Knoxville_," he said, laughing harder. I sighed, walking back into my hotel room and closing the door on Ryan. He was never going to get used to the fact that Johnny and I were dating. Never.

So, that was that. I was going to have to go meet some stupid publicist hours before I caught a plane to Tennessee. I sighed, already knowing that nothing good could come from this.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

I sat in a crowded coffee house, smoking a cigarette and looking compulsively back at the clock. It was a quarter past four. Johnny told me to meet him at the airport at five o'clock _sharp. _If this Skip Arnold guy didn't show up in a few minutes, I was going to have to leave. For being a professional that apparently worked with tons of celebrities, he was sure acting unprofessional.

_It's 4:16, _I thought, sucking on my cigarette. _You've got time, Al. _While thinking this, a young man wondered over to my table, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from me.

"Smoking a cigarette in a dimly lit coffee house. Very posh," the man said, setting a brief case down on the table. This had to be Skip. I looked him up and down, analyzing his appearance. He had neatly gelled brown hair and a mustache. He wore thick black glasses and a collared shirt and tie. He looked pretty young—thirty, maybe younger. I was expecting some middle aged guy to come walking in. How much experience could this kid possible have?

"Sorry I was running late," he said, messing around with some things in his briefcase. "I had some trouble with check in at my hotel. But anyways, I am Skip Arnold—your new publicist." He gave me a wide smile and extended his hand to me. I raised an eyebrow. I didn't remember hiring a new publicist. I just stared at him, unsure of what to make of this guy. As I looked at him, his smile faded and he pulled back his hand. I think he was just beginning to realize how this was going to work. We weren't going to be friends. He was going to do his job and I was going to do mine. That was it. Skip took a deep breath, staring me down the same way I was staring him down. He eyes locked on my cigarette. "Are you going to put that out?" he said. I blew a puff of smoke out of my mouth.

"No," I responded shortly. He nodded, looking down. He was sizing me up. I could feel it. _Fair enough, _I thought. I was sizing him up too.

"Alright," he said, nodding his head. "Well, first of all, do you have any questions for me? Like what's my background, my education, or any other preferences you may have—?"

"How old are you?" I asked out of sheer curiosity. He sucked his lips in, making his mustache twitch. I wondered if what I said offended him, not that I really cared.

"I'll give you a hint," Skip said quickly. "I am about the same age as the formerly engaged man you have been having an affair with—"

"Excuse me?" I said, furrowing my eyebrow. I thought this guy was supposed to be on my side? I thought he was supposed to make me look good in front of the media, not buy into the stories that the magazines were writing about me. He tapped his fingers restlessly against the table, eyeing me intensely.

"You heard me," he replied. "That is what the tabloids are saying about you. And believe me, they are saying much worse than that. I have been doing my homework ever since I got a call from Jeff Tremaine, begging me to take you as my client. You are in quite the mess, sweetheart. The public is not on your side and in this business, you are nothing without the public. I am going to try my damndest to help you out of this hole you got yourself into, but if I am going to do it you're going to have cut the tough girl act and start thinking with your head. That's what I do, if you were wondering. I help these new hot celebrities adjust to this life. It's not an easy change, but I can help you if you are willing to listen to me." I just stared at him, trying to process everything he just said. I knew I was in a bit of a mess, but I never thought it was the big of a deal. And while I kept telling myself that this guy was just doing his job, I couldn't help but think that he was acting like a complete dick. Then again, I was acting like a complete dick to him too.

"Do you act like this to all of your clients?" I asked, pressing my cigarette between my fingers, orange embers falling from the tip. "I doubt that Lindsay Lohan would put up with you…" I said, speaking sarcastically.

"Jeff warned me about you," Skip said, leaning back in his chair. "And trust me, you aren't like most my clients. You know how many drug scandals I have cleaned up? Hundreds, I'd say. I've even covered a few politicians' asses when they get caught with call girls. But you know, you're going to be a real challenge…" He trailed off, looking at me, still tapping his finger against the table.

"I really don't get what the big deal is," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, I wish everyone would get off my back, but if people are going to talk they're going to talk. You can't change that. And even if you can, I could care less—"

"That's the problem," Skip cut in. "Everyone knows you could care less. It isn't a very attractive quality in a young lady. Especially a young lady who is in magazines and on talk shows and red carpets…you're supposed to care." I chuckled, simply because I didn't care. Skip exhaled slowly before speaking again. "Alex, you know what people are saying about you. And believe me, there is nothing remotely likeable about a young lady with a past full of drugging and partying who is now sleeping with her new co-worker who is engaged to a classy, pretty, _very likeable _woman—"

"But that's true," I replied, cutting him off.

"But it doesn't matter if it is true, sweetheart," he retorted. "I have seen careers get ruined over stories that are completely false. Call me crazy, but I am thinking there might be a bit of truth in the stories that the tabloids are writing about you. People lie, but pictures don't. I have seen too many pictures of you wasted outside nightclubs with your arms around Johnny Knoxville. If you want to clean up your image, you're going to have stop doing that." I pressed my tongue against the back of my teeth. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right.

"I know, Skip," I said. "It's just—"

"Well, if you want your privacy back, you will do what I tell you to," Skip said cutting me off. "If you don't give people anything to talk about, they'll eventually shut up. So keep on the down low for a while. No more getting drunk and going home with costars for awhile, alright? No big interviews. Just little radio shows every now and then. Just don't do anything stupid."

"My boss told me the same thing weeks ago," I stated.

"Did you listen?" Skip asked. I was silent. "Exactly," he said, shaking his head. "You can't expect things to change if you aren't changing yourself. I said this before and I will say it again—you need to adjust to this lifestyle. And I'll do my best to help. So just don't do anything too obnoxious for a few weeks, and I will take care of the media for you."

"How?" I asked, wondering how he could take care of the thing that had been menacing me since I got this gig on Jackass.

"We sell magazines statements," he said. "Concoct something nice and general to tell the media. We can deny the things they are saying, or we can tell them that we aren't going to be talking about it—it's really your call. But either way, magazines will pay big bucks to get a few sentences out of you no matter what they are. And after it's out there, it's done. Everyone knows where you stand. It's like a Hollywood cure-all…" I nodded, looking at the clock on the wall. It was almost 4:30. I groaned. I still had to get to the hotel and pick up my luggage. Then I had to get through airport security, and that was always hell. I sighed, putting out my cigarette in the ashtray on the table.

"You know, I have got somewhere really important to be," I said, giving Skip a small sympathetic smile. I stood up from the table and began grabbing my things. "We have got to finish this conversation some other time. But I've got to get going right now…"

"Wait," Skip said before I left. "We need to talk about a statement for you to put out—"

"Just make one up," I said quickly. "You're the professional."

"Well, where can I contact you?" he began to ask, fishing through his briefcase. "Like a phone number or an e-mail…"

"Ask Jeff for my phone number," I said, heading for the door. "I really gotta go now. I'll…uh…talk to you later." Skip sighed, slumping in his chair as I left. _Well, that was pretty…strange. _But it didn't matter. I just had to get out of there. If I wanted to make my flight, I couldn't stay here and argue with this guy any longer. Besides, he seemed to know what he was doing. He didn't need any of my help. And besides, it seemed like what I had to say didn't matter—Skip knew what _needed _to be done, and he was going to do it whether I wanted to or not. I sighed. That is why I wanted to get away from all of this Jackass shit in the first place. I didn't want to be told what to do anymore. I need to put on some kind of act for the media. I just wanted to say screw it. So that is what I would do.

I got back to the hotel as quickly as I could. All the guys were out—either doing interviews or grabbing lunch or something. I was glad they were out. I wouldn't have been able to grab my things and go if they weren't. I felt a pang of guilt as I walked into my hotel room, instantly grabbing my suitcase and flinging it on my bed, filling it with all my clothes as quickly as I could. I was betraying these guys—_my friends. _I was bailing out when things got tough. I wondered what they would think about me after this. Maybe they wouldn't care that much. Maybe they would. I didn't know, but I didn't want to think about it any longer either. I just wanted to get on the airplane and leave.

I finished stuffing my suitcase with wrinkled, unfolded clothes and zipped it up, hoping I wasn't running too late. I grabbed my suitcase, heading for the door. I opened the door a crack, checking the hallway to make sure none of the guys had showed up. _Coast is clear, _I thought, preparing to hurry to the elevator, but at the last second, I saw Steve strutting down the hallway. _Damn! _I thought, closing the door and sighing. What was he still doing here? Didn't he have an interview or something? I groaned, feeling another pang of guilt. _I should probably go talk to him. _I shook my head, leaving my luggage in my room and walking out into the hallway. I'd talk to him for a few minutes so he would know I was alright after what happened the night before. Then I could leave England without an ounce of guilt weighing me down. _Right…_

"Hey, Steve," I said, approaching him. He saw me and stopped walking down the hallway. He gave me a wide grin.

"Hey, Al!" he said in a cheery tone. "Where is everyone? I woke up a few minutes ago and everyone is gone…"

"You woke up a few minutes ago?" I asked. "It is almost five o'clock Steve." He laughed.

"It's really that late?" he chuckled. "Dude, I need to invest in an alarm clock or something…"

"Don't worry about it," I said, shaking my head. "All the guys are out doing interviews and shit. I guess you are free today."

"Sweet," he said, nodding his head. "Well in that case, we have got to go out again! Last night was a blast! At least, what I can remember of it was really fun…" We both began laughing. My memories of last night's events were pretty hazy too, but we did have a blast. Wait—no. I wasn't supposed to think that. What we did last night was bad and it was wrong and if I hadn't gone out, I probably would be better off now. But I did have fun...

"So what do you say?" Steve asked. "You and me can go to some club tonight. We can have a good time." _Guilt. _I bit my bottom lip, weighing my options. I could lie. I could tell him we could hang out later that day, knowing I would be on a flight out of England in a matter of hours. Or I could tell him the truth. I could tell him I was leaving and I would be back soon enough. Neither option felt right, so I chose neither of them. I just threw my arms of his shoulder, pulling him into tight hug. Steve awkwardly put his hands on my back.

"I'm gonna miss you," I mumbled. He sighed hugging me back. I wasn't sure if he hadn't heard my previous comment or he just chose to ignore it, because he didn't say anything. I was glad. I didn't feel like explaining it and I didn't feel like lying. But I felt like he understood. That is what friends do—they understand you. He was a great friend.

"So, I'll see you later?" Steve said, pulling away from me. He had a small smile on his lips.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll see you later." He chuckled, continuing to walk down the hallway.

"Well, see you then, Kidd," he added, waving to me before he boarded an elevator, going who knows where. He was a good friend. They were all good friends. I couldn't believe I was abandoning all of them like this. I tried to push those thoughts out of my head as I grabbed my suitcase from my room. They would understand. They had to understand. They had to. I tried to convince myself this as I headed to the airport, my plane ticket to Tennessee in my pocket. That ticket felt like it weighed a million pounds, weighing me down the whole way.

I was late to the airport. It was almost 5:30 when I got to the airport and by the time I got through airport security, it was almost 6:00. Luckily, I didn't miss my flight altogether like I thought I would. I just made it in time to catch my flight. When I boarded the plane, I looked down at my ticket, finding my seat in section 32C. I stared blindly at my ticket, walking to my seat. When I looked up, I was greeted be Johnny who was patiently sitting in the seat beside mine.

"Hey," he said as I sat down next to him. "I thought you were having second thoughts about this…" I smiled. I was. I had been second guessing this decision all morning. But sitting there beside Johnny, I realized why I wanted to do this in the first place. All this Jackass hype wasn't good for me right now. It was messing with my head. I needed some time to relax and just…_calm down. _I needed to get away from the media so I could just be a normal person again. Above all, I needed to spend some time with Johnny. We needed to be able to act like a normal couple. We needed to be able to talk without having to hide in a closet when someone walked by. This trip would be good for us. Maybe the guys would hate me for leaving them, but that didn't change how I felt. I had to do this for me.

"No way," I said, smiling. "I don't know if I could stand staying in England any longer." Johnny laughed. "Seriously. I met that publicist that Tremaine was freaking out about. It went so bad…" He groaned, shaking his head.

"Aw, Really?" he asked. "I had a bad feeling that it wasn't going to go over well." He grimaced. "What happened?"

"Nothing really went wrong," I answered honestly. "It's just…I don't know. We didn't click. And you know I hate it when people—"

"Tell you what to do, even when it's for your own good?" Johnny said. I pouted, nodding my head. He laughed.

"The guy was acting like there was a formula to get me out of this mess," I replied. "I just have to say this, do this, and wear this and all of a sudden, everyone will forget what a piece of shit I am. I am not going to follow some script so people like me. I am going to be myself and if people don't like me…well fuck them." Johnny laughed, squeezing my hand.

"That's my girl," he said. That is when a voice came on over an intercom, telling us to buckle our seatbelts and to stay seated turning takeoff and landing. Johnny's fingers stayed intertwined with mine the whole time. It was nice. The flight was nice. I didn't think about Jackass once. I felt like a normal person. I felt like the same girl I was back in California—no, New York. But after the first few hours of the flight, I noticed that the woman sitting to the right of Johnny was staring at us. At first, I shook it off, assuming it was nothing, but after a few minutes passed and she was still shamelessly staring at us, I decided that something was up. Before I could ask Johnny if he noticed the woman staring at us, she leaned over to Johnny, poking his arm. He turned to her as she began speaking.

"Hey," the woman began. She was a young woman with short brown hair and a pretty smile. I wondered what she wanted. "I swear I know you two from somewhere," she went on to say. _Oh no, _I thought. She probably recognized us from the show. I was hoping that she didn't remember where she knew us from, but I wasn't holding my breath.

"You know us?" Johnny said coolly. He furrowed, his brows, turning to me as if he had no idea what this woman was talking about. "I'm not sure where we would have—"

"Oh! I know!" the woman shouted, a smile spreading on her face. "You two are from that show on MTV! The one with the skateboarders…yeah! What is it called?" _Damn,_ I thought. On the inside, I was freaking out, wondering why we had to be seated next to the only person who recognized us on the plane. Johnny, on the other hand, kept himself composed.

"A show on MTV?" he said with a slight chuckle. "Us? I think you are mistaken—"

"No way," she continued. "I'm…I am positive! The show is called Jackass! You're name is…uh, Jack…no, Johnny! Johnny Knoxville!" _Why is this lady so loud?_ I thought to myself, biting my lip. "And your name is Alex, right?" the lady continued, pointing her finger at me. I just looked at her with a deer-in-the-headlights expression on my face. Once again, Johnny used his social skills to rescue me.

"Johnny Knoxville?" he said with a quiet laugh. "I'm definitely not him. My name is Phillip." I chuckled as the woman nodded her head, actually buying the lies that Johnny was selling. Of course, Phillip was his real name, but most people who watched Jackass didn't know that.

"And Johnny Knoxville is a lot better looking than him," I said, punching Johnny's arm. He laughed, punching me back.

"Wow," the woman said, leaning back in her seat. "You two look a lot like them…seriously, you could be their stunt doubles or something. It's crazy." Johnny and I exchanged looks, acting like we were shocked by this comparison. "Well, I am sorry to bother you two," the woman said. Johnny smiled.

"Not at all," he said, turning away from her. I chuckled, making eye contact with him. He just smiled. Did we just convince someone that we weren't…us? I smiled wider, laying my head on Johnny's shoulder. He placed his hand on my back and I felt this really calm wave wash over me. Maybe we did get recognized, but we got out of it. We could get out of anything. We could be anyone. I could be anyone. I just had to decide who I wanted to be.

**A/N: Again, sorry about the super long wait for this chapter. I am not going to make up that many excuses, but I have been really busy with exams and theater, but it is winter break and I will have some time to catch up on this story. And don't worry—I will probably **_**never **_**stop writing this story. I have been working on it for over a year and I won't be ditching it anytime soon. Thanks for all your support! All the reviews I have been getting are amazing! I love all of my readers! Happy Holidays!**


	16. We're a Happy Family (Johnny)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Sixteen: We're a Happy Family_

"Nervous?" I asked Alex, gripping the steering wheel of the shiny rental car I had picked up a few hours ago. Alex shrugged, sitting with her knees up in the passenger's seat. She was holding a folded up map in her hands, though we didn't need to use it. I remembered my way around Knoxville.

"Not nervous," Alex said. "But I'm probably going to do something stupid. And they will probably end up hating by the end of the night…" she sighed and I chuckled at her negativity. "Okay, I guess I am nervous." I would have been nervous if I were in her shoes. We had landed in Knoxville early this morning. It was too early to actually do anything, so we got a room at some motel and crashed there for a few hours. Now it was about twelve in the afternoon and we were driving out to my parent's house and I could tell by the way Alex was acting that she was freaking out. She probably wouldn't tell me just how nervous she was, but I had a feeling she was pretty anxious.

"Don't be, Al," I said, putting a hand on her thigh. "They're just my parents. And they're pretty accepting. I mean, if they are fine with all the shit I do on Jackass, why would they have a problem with you?" Alex paused, thinking about it. I hoped that I had gotten through to her. While meeting your significant other's parents was always a nerve-racking experience, there was really no reason to get too hung up about it. Parents were people too.

"I know, I know," Alex said, mulling over this whole situation. "But I know I am going to make an ass out of myself. And what do I call them? Mr. and Mrs. Clapp? That sounds too formal, but calling them by their first names sounds too casual. I don't want to offend them…and do southern people really insist on being caller sir and ma'am? Because in the north if you call a woman ma'am, she'll just get pissed off—"

"Babe. Calm down," I spoke. She was stressing herself out over nothing.

"You're right," Alex said. "I just need to calm down. But I feel…unprepared. I have never met a boyfriend's parents before." I laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you serious?" I asked. Alex nodded. "Holy shit," I continued. "All my girlfriends would drag me over to their parent's house for dinner a few times a month. Naomi used to do it all the time. And her parents hated me." Alex laughed, shaking her head. "They really did!" I said. "She had the type of dad who says things like, _'hurt my daughter and I'll hunt you down,' _and shit life that. He kind of scared me." Alex laughed, biting her lower lip like she did so often.

"I hope your parents don't scare me," she said. "I want to like them. I want them to like me…"

"They will," I insisted. "I promise. What's not to like? You're funny and you're pretty. You're fun to be around…you're me in a skirt for Christ's sake."

"Thank you…I think," she said. "But what are you going to tell them about us?" I sighed, thinking about it. What_ was_ I going to tell them about us? It had crossed my mind a few times in the days leading up to this, but I kept telling myself I would think about it later. Now, minutes away from my parent's house, I still had no idea what I wanted to do. While I thought my folks deserved the truth, I wasn't convinced that telling them about my relationship with Alex was the best idea.

"I don't know," I said, speaking honestly. "I think it might be a little too much for them to process at once. Just get to know them first. We can tell them some other time." I think I heard Alex give a quiet sigh of relief. I couldn't blame her—she probably thought my parent's would have some sort of expectations of her if they knew we were dating. My parents weren't like that, though. They didn't care who I dated, they just wanted to see me happy. That is why they were so opposed to the idea of me marrying Naomi. They didn't think I was really that happy when I was with her. I guess they were right about that one.

"Fine with me," Alex spoke. "I just want this to be as easy as possible for us. Tell your parents when you're ready—when _they're _ready." I smiled, happy with Alex's sudden compliance. "Do you think they are still going to be hung up on the fact that you broke up with Naomi?"

"Defiantly," I replied. My parents were pretty much in the dark about the whole ordeal with Naomi. I called them and told them that things with her weren't working out a few months ago. They knew I ended things with her, but other than that they knew nothing. I am sure they heard all sorts of rumors and they probably wanted me to clear some things up for them. My parents weren't gullible, though. They knew that most the things they read in magazines and saw on TV were lies. Still, they would most likely want to know if anything the magazines and newspapers were talking about was true. "I haven't told them much. I am sure they will want some long explanation, but I don't have one. I'm probably just going to tell them we were having disagreements over my job or something. Keep it simple."

"Why not just tell them the truth?" Alex said. "She cheated on you. I don't get why you are still trying to protect her." Alex didn't speak with anger, just curiosity. I was surprised by her statement. I knew how she felt about Naomi, but I didn't know she thought I was trying to protect Naomi.

"I'm not protecting her," I said, shaking my head. "I just don't like telling people about it. You know how it feels to get cheated on." Alex nodded her head, reaching over to grab one of my hands. She held it between her hands, stroking my palm with her thumbs. "It's almost embarrassing," I went on to say, thinking deeper about the topic. "There must have been something she wanted that I wasn't giving her. And it is a little bit of a blow to the ego when your fiancée has to go out and find some other dude to—"

"Please, Johnny," Alex said, cutting me off. "What Naomi wanted was attention from every guy on the planet. And I don't know what you were giving her, but what you've been giving me is pretty amazing." She kissed the back of my hand and my chest felt tight. She laughed, probably knowing exactly how I was feeling. It probably humored her to know that with a few choice words and a soft kiss, I'd melt. I yanked my hand away from her and she laughed even louder.

"Come on, Al!" I pleaded. "I haven't seen my parents in months. I think my mom will be pretty upset when she sees me for the first time in months and I am trying to hide a stiffy from her."

"You're no fun," Alex snickered.

"We've gotta focus," I said. "Mom, Dad, introductions…"

"You know, we haven't even done it in the United States," Alex said, thinking out lud and causing me to groan with a strange mix of pleasure and displeasure. "You think it feel different?"

"Alex…" I begged. "If it was any other day besides today, I would pull over and we would find out right now in the backseat of the car. But you know we can't today. Why are you doing this to me?" Alex just smiled, happy that her words were having such an effect on me.

For the rest of the ride, our conversation stayed pretty much tame. Alex was getting nervous again and began pelting me with a million questions about how to act around my parents. I kept telling her to just be herself, but she wasn't too satisfied with that answer.

"Are you insane Johnny?" she asked. "Being myself is what got me into every bad situation I have been in throughout my entire life."

"Don't say that," I said, turning onto the street where my parents lived. "You are psyching yourself out over nothing." She sighed, agreeing with me. I doubted that she actually believed me, though.

When I got to my parent's house, I slowly pulled into the driveway. Alex looked like she was going to puke and I chuckled. "You need a second, babe?" I said. She furrowed her eyebrows and I laughed.

"Shut up—"

"I think it's cute," I said. "You want to look good in front of my folks. It is sweet…"

"I don't know what to expect. I told you, I have never met a boyfriend's parents," Alex tried to explain. "Van's parents live in the Midwest. Before him, I never really did the whole serious dating thing. You know, I actually don't think I have ever had a serious conversation with a parent. I've never spoken to my own dad and my mom was as good of a parent as Ronald DeFeo—"

"Deep breath, Al," I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. She did as I told her too, breathing in slowly. I leaned in, kissing her on the cheek. "I love you." She smiled.

"Love you too." I pulled the keys out of the car ignition. This was it.

I hadn't told my parents I was coming over. This was partially because I thought it would be a nice surprise, but mostly because if my mom knew I was coming over, she would have planned some kind of huge party and she would have invited everyone in town because that was just the type of woman she was. I loved her for it, but it would have been pretty uncomfortable for Alex and me if my mom planned anything. I was convinced that it was better this way.

I walked up the walkway to my front door. Alex silently looked up at the house. When I reached the door, I rang the doorbell, sticking my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Alex examined the front door.

"I can't believe you grew up here," she said quietly as we waited.

"Why?" I replied.

"This house is fucking huge," she said. "My apartment building wasn't this big."

"Stop exaggerating," I said. She smirked. "And don't swear in front of my mom. She'll shit herself if she—" I stopped speaking when the door opened. There was my mom.

"PJ!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around my waste. I looked over at Alex, who smiled back at me. "Phillip, get out here!" my mom shouted, looking back in the house. "PJ is back!" I chuckled. "And he brought a friend." She pulled her arms off me for a moment to give Alex a handshake. "I'm Lemoyne, PJ's mother."

"I'm Alex—"

"Don't be silly, I know who you are," my mom said, smiling. "All of you are celebrities. I can't believe it…my son is a little celebrity…" She began hugging me once again and I heard Alex laughing behind me. Thankfully, my dad appeared in the doorway.

"Lemoyne, what are you doing keeping these people out on the porch?" he said. "They've probably been traveling all day. Let them inside."

"Of course!" my mom said, heading back inside the house. My dad introduced himself to Alex, shaking her hand as she walked into the house. "Come in, come in," my mom continued, making a huge fuss over us. "Goodness, the house is a mess. You should have told me you were coming over. I would have tidied up." I looked around the house. It looked as impeccable as it did when I was a kid. I couldn't fathom what she thought needed cleaning. "Sit down you two," she said, pointing to the couch in the living room. We did as she said, entering the living room and sitting down. Alex looked around the room, seeming to be in awe.

"You're house is amazing," Alex said to my mother. "It's beautiful." My mom was overjoyed by Alex's comment.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said, clapping her hands together and smiling like she had never been complimented in her entire life. "Most the time when PJ has his Jackass over from that show, they just destroy my furniture and wreck my home, but you complimented it. How nice. You know, I have been telling PJ they needed a girl on that show for the longest time—"

"No you haven't, Mom," I said. She furrowed her eyebrows at me and Alex laughed.

"Well then I have been thinking it," she countered. "Everything in life need's a woman's touch."

"So true," Alex laughed. I was glad that they were getting along. I knew they would.

"Well, you need to tell me everything that has been going on," my mom went on to say. She sat down in a chair beside my dad. "How is the show going? How is everyone? How are Jeff and his new wife? I haven't seen them in years—"

"They're fine," I assured. "Everything is fine."

"And why are you two down here?" my mom said, continuing to pelt us with questions. "Are you guys shooting down here or something?"

"No," I answered. "We are done filming for a while. But we came down here because…" I looked at Alex, hoping she had some kind of answer, but she just shook her head. "We needed a _break_," I finally replied, trying to pick choice words.

"You take a break from _England _to come to Tennessee?" my dad replied with a laugh. When he said it like that, it really did seem odd. I remember when I called my folks and told them I was traveling to the UK, they were really excited for me. I was excited about it, too. None of us could have predicted that our trip was going to end the way it did.

"London isn't all that great," I answered. "It rains a lot. No sun. I liked when we went to India better—"

"My baby is a little world traveler!" my mom exclaimed. I groaned and Alex laughed.

"Mom…" I sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just, I never see you anymore…"

"I call you every week," I replied.

"It's not the same," she said, sulking a little. "You're off doing bigger and better things. I just want to be part of it."

"I don't," my dad said, laughing. "We watch Jackass every week. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near those knuckleheads while they are filming. They're crazy." I laughed and so did Alex. My dad was right about that one. It wasn't safe to be anywhere near us while we were filming. Once we were in the pranking mood, nothing could stop us.

"There is a lot that goes on in your lives that isn't on the show," my mom said.

"Well, if you want to know about my personal life just go buy a gossip magazine," I said. Alex laughed, shaking her head.

"We don't bring that trash into this house," my mom said. "I don't want to read those lies they are saying about my little boy. It's all pure garbage."

"It's been getting pretty nasty," I said. "But I guess it just comes with the job." I looked over at Alex, who seemed to be sinking into her chair as we continued to talk about the media. I was about to try and help her out and switch the topic, but a picture on the coffee table caught my eye. It was a little framed picture of Naomi and me from some holiday we spent in Knoxville awhile ago. Looking at it, I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry, so I just decided to continue staring at it. My mom realized I was looking at the photo and she quickly swiped it off the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, apologizing to me. "We just never took it off the table. I never thought about it. I mean, now that you and Naomi are…" I nodded as my mother looked at me with distressed eyes. "You know, I hate to talk about this in front of company—"

"It's fine," I said, pointing my head at Alex. "She already knows everything." Alex nodded.

"Well then, are you two really done?" my mom asked, not hesitating for a moment. "I know you said you broke things off with her, but you've got a nasty habit of letting your ex-girlfriends talk you into getting back together with them." Al laughed and I shot her a look. Okay, maybe I took back a few of my ex-girlfriends when I was in high school, but I was a teenager. We all make bad decisions in high school. I didn't appreciate my mom bringing up that particular mannerism of mine in front of Alex, but Al didn't seem to care all that much.

"We're done," I assured. I didn't know how else to put it. I didn't want to go into too much detail about my break up with Naomi—or my new relationship with Alex—but I wanted my mom to know that I was completely done with Naomi.

"Why?" my mom asked. I sighed. I knew she was going to want more information than I was willing to give her.

"Why _not_?" My dad replied. Al and I laughed at his response.

"Well, I know we weren't too crazy about her," my mom reasoned, "but PJ was head over heels for her. I don't see why it ended so suddenly." Everyone looked at me. Alex raised her eyebrows, probably wondering whether or not I was going to tell them the truth. Once again, I was like a deer caught in the headlights. I looked at my mom with wide eyes, quickly deciding what I wanted to do.

"We were fighting a lot," I started. True so far. "We were having a lot of problems…" Also true. "And she didn't like that I had to travel so much for work. She wasn't ready for my lifestyle. We decided it would be best to just end it and stay friends." Okay, that was a complete lie. I looked at Alex, who was betting her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from laughing. I shot her a look, asking for a little empathy.

"I am glad it wasn't a nasty breakup," my mom said. "It's good that you can be mature and stay friends with her."

"They're really good friends," Alex said, smiling. "Best friends, I'd say." She laughed at her own sarcasm. Even I laughed. Luckily, my parents didn't catch on.

"Well, that's great," my mom said. She paused for a moment, nodding her head. "Are you, you know, seeing anyone else?" She stole a look at Alex, who looked instinctively down at her feet.

"No, Mom," I answered. "I just broke up with my fiancée. Give me a minute to get back on my feet…" That was laughable. Telling my mom I needed time before getting back in the dating game seemed like a bad joke. It had been three or four months since I left Naomi. I don't know if I could have gone that long without another woman in my life.

"You are right," my mom said, trying not to pressure me. "But I am going to want grandkids one day, you know…" Alex and I laughed nervously, inching away from each other. Alex seemed to be trying to completely sink into the couch. I could only imagine what she was thinking.

"Lemoyne, are you trying to scare your son away?" my dad asked.

"Oh, I was just making conversation," she replied. "But anyways, what about you, Alex?" Al looked up at my mom with wide eyes, probably hoping that our talk of grandchildren was over. "How did you end up on a show like Jackass?" Alex gave a sigh of relief.

"It's a boring story…" Al said slowly, but I wasn't going to let it slide. I was going to put her on blast.

"It is an awesome story," I assured. "This little thug over here is out at a bar with her friend, and she gets a bet to trash this Porsche in the parking lot. And she does it. Wrecks the car. Spray paints it, takes a crowbar to the windshield, I mean, totally trashes it. And it turns out that it was Jeff's Porsche." Alex sighed, looking at my parents with flushed cheeks. "They got talking and it turns out that she was a perfect for the cast…"

"You did that?" my mom said to Alex.

"Jeff can afford a Porsche?" my dad asked, causing Alex and me to laugh.

"It shocks me, too," I answered.

"I should have known," my mom said, shaking her head with a smile on her lips. "All of you are the same."

"What can I say?" Alex said with a shrug. "They put me on the show for a reason."

"I think you make the show," my dad said to Alex. "Well, you make it for me. I was watching it with Lemoyne one night and my son was being a jackass, and you shot him with a BB gun. I thought it was great. Liked you ever since…"

"Hey, I remember when you do that," I said, looking at Alex. "That hurt like hell…"

"You had it coming," Alex replied, causing my dad to laugh. I guess Alex and Dad had something in common—they both thought it was funny when I got hurt.

"Well, you two are welcome to stay as long as you'd like," my mom said. "Where are you guys staying?"

"We've got a room at some motel a few miles away—" I began to explain, but my quickly cut me off, waving her hands as if what I just suggested was completely insane.

"Oh, no," my mom said, shaking her head. "My son comes down to visit me and he stays in some crummy motel? No. We have more than enough room here. You go and get your things and bring them back here. You can sleep in your old room, PJ. And Alex, we've got a guest room for you. It'll be great." Alex looked at me, waiting for me to respond.

"I don't know, Mom," I said. "I mean, I'd hate to impose—"

"The boy doesn't want to stay with his parents," my dad said, quite sensibly. "That is why he moved out in the first place…"

"Don't be silly," my mom replied, shaking her head. I loved how no one thought they'd ask my opinion on the matter. "My boy loves it here. Now go show Alex where the guest room is, PJ. I'll get you two something to drink, okay?" I nodded. If I knew anything, it was that I shouldn't disagree with what my mother wanted, especially when we had company over. She couldn't ground me anymore, but I would rather not anger her.

"Okay," I replied, standing up. Alex stood up as well. I led her out of the living room, walking to the staircase. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" I said when we were a safe distance away from my parents.

"No. It was fine," she agreed. "Your parents are adorable." I laughed, shaking my head as we walked down the hallway.

"And about staying here—I mean, I didn't want to, but my mom is so—"

"Don't worry about it," Alex said. "It's cute how you try to please your mom." I rolled my eyes as we approached the guest room. I opened the door, letting Alex into the room.

"This is it," I said, following her in. She smiled, sitting on the bed.

"It's bigger than my bedroom back home," she laughed. "And it's decorated better, too."

"Do you count the beer cans stacked on your coffee table as decoration?" I asked. "Because if you do, then the decoration at your place is amazing…"

"Shut up," she said, laughing. She turned her head, looking around the room. She chuckled, seeing a frame on the nightstand and grabbing it. I sat beside her, examining the photo. Of course, it was another picture of Naomi and me.

"Why?" Alex laughed, looking at the picture. "Why would this need to be in the guest room? Do all of your parent's guests need to fall asleep with Naomi Simmons staring at them?" I chuckled, understanding where Alex was coming from.

"When Naomi and I were together, we visited my parents a lot," I explained. "She was big on the family thing. But we would stay in here. I guess my mom thought a picture would make it feel more like home for Naomi…I don't know." Alex looked down at the picture, staring at Naomi.

"I feel like I am her replacement," Al said. "Like I am a _bad _replacement. I mean, your parents must be going crazy downstairs right now. The last girl you bring home is Naomi, who looks like a fucking model, and now you are bringing me home…"

"Forget about Naomi," I said. She looked from the picture to me, then back down to the picture. "Do I need to help you take your mind off things?" I said, kissing her cheek.

"Your parents are downstairs," she said, still looking at the picture. "Are you crazy?"

"Probably," I said. I gently grabbed her chin, turning her face to mine. I kissed her lips hard, taking her off guard. I heard something glass smash. I pulled away from her and saw that she had dropped the framed picture to the floor.

"Oops," she said. I smiled, looking up at her.

"That picture needed to go anyways," I said, kissing her once again. She chuckled, laying back as I placed my fingers on her belt buckle. Sure, we were risking getting caught by my parents, but it was definitely worth it.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"You have got to go catch up with some people from around town, PJ," my mom said, washing some dishes in the kitchen. My dad had disappeared into the den to watch some football game and my mom was in the kitchen with us, trying to plan an itinerary for Alex and I while we were Tennessee. She wasn't very successful though—Alex wasn't paying any attention to her and either was I.

"You know, yesterday Lesley and I were talking about how you need to visit," my mom was saying.

"Mm, really?" I said, trying to pay a little attention to her, but it was pretty difficult. Alex was sitting across from me, staring at me, biting her lip and running her hand through her blonde curls. She rubbed her foot against my leg, scraping her nails against the surface of the table. Standard post-sex tendencies. She kept rubbing her leg up against mine and I could barely focus on anything. I wondered if she was doing it on purpose, but it didn't really matter why she was doing it. The bottom line was that it was driving me crazy.

"Are you listening to me, PJ?" my mother asked after a few minutes passed. I immediately tore my eyes away from Alex, giving my mom a weak smile.

"Of course," I said. She gave me a strange look but then nodded her head, accepting what I had to say. "But I was just thinking that Alex and I would go pick our stuff up from the motel now. Then we might take a drive around town…see what has changed since I left."

"That's a wonderful idea," my mom said, happy to hear that I wanted to go socialize with people from around town. "I am sure everyone will be thrilled to see you two. We never see celebrities in this part of town. And in case you guys get hungry, we are going to have dinner around six-ish if you two would like to join us. It's up to you guys, though." I laughed, standing up. My mom said it was up to us, but it was obvious that she would have been disappointed if we turned her down.

"Sure thing, Mom," I said. Alex stood up beside me.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Alex," my mom said before we left.

"It was nice meeting you too," Al replied. We exited the room.

Once Alex and I got back into the car, it felt like we could finally breathe. Alex kept looking out the window as we backed out of the driveway. "It's nice here," she said. "Your house is nice. Your parents are nice. I don't get why you would leave here to go to California." I was glad Alex liked Knoxville and my family. I guess I could understand why the quaint town would be seen as charming to someone who has only been there one day. After eighteen years, though, it gets a little mundane.

"There aren't many opportunities here," I said. "My dad is a cars salesman. I didn't want to sell cars. And besides, I went to college in California."

"For two whole weeks," she laughed, making fun of my shitty excuse for a college career.

"Yeah, it beats your record," I said, laughing with her.

"Okay, we are both too lazy to go on to higher education," Alex said. "But maybe it is a good thing. If we got degrees, maybe we would have gotten real jobs or met some other educated people and gotten married and had families…"

"Yeah, thank God that didn't happen," I said sarcastically.

"You know what I mean."

"I know," I said. "And I am glad I met you, too." She smiled. I couldn't imagine things being any way other than they way they were. If I never met Alex, I would probably be with Naomi again. If Naomi never cheated on me, I would probably be a married man right now. I gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as the thought crossed my mind. What the hell was I thinking? Marriage? I felt like I was just starting my career—just starting my life, and I was getting ready to settle down with a woman my family and friends all hated? And while I was with Naomi, I barely ever second guessed our relationship. Could love really make me that blind? For a moment, I wondered if my love for Alex was blinding me from anything. I didn't like the thought.

"I hope everything works out," Alex said, still looking out the window. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but I decided not to. Because I was pretty sure I knew. We didn't talk about it any longer as we drive out to the motel. I had enough serious conversations for one day. I just wanted to have some. That is exactly what I planned to do with the rest of my day. And Alex and I did have fun. We had so much fun that we forgot to back to my parent's place for dinner. Oops.

When Alex and I got back to my parent's house, it was about seven o'clock. We were out all afternoon, just going around town and checking things out. I told my mom that I planned on visiting old friends, but that isn't what happened. Alex and I just put on our sunglasses and hats, spending the day incognito and just enjoying a relaxing day to ourselves. We didn't get recognized once all day. I know that the point of visiting your hometown is seeing you old friends and family, but I just didn't feel like it. While I initially thought this vacation would be a good way from me to catch up with things in Knoxville, it was also a great way for me to spend time with Alex. We didn't have to worry about the paparazzi or the media or anything else. And right now, Alex was my number one priority.

When we walked into the house, I saw my dad sitting in a lounge chair, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. We greeted him, walking back to the kitchen where my mom was cleaning up. I then realized that we had missed the dinner our mom said she was going to make us.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mom," I said. She looked up from the table, shaking her head.

"It's fine, PJ," she said with a smile. "You were out having fun. It's you first day back. You probably were just catching up with some of the people around town, right?" Alex and I exchanged looks.

"Yeah…" I lied. The room was silent for a moment.

"Well, I'm going to go grab our luggage out of the trunk," Alex said. "I'll bring it upstairs." She took the car keys from me, leaving the room. She probably felt that I needed some time to talk to my mom alone—or my mom needed some time to talk to me. She was probably right.

Once she left, my mom sat down at the table. I cringed, but I sat down across from her. I felt like I was about to get a serious talk and I really wasn't in the mood for a serious talk. I just got home from a great day with my girlfriend. I was in a good mood and I was hoping whatever my mom had to say wasn't going to ruin it.

My mom took a deep breath. _Damn. _This was definitely going to be a serious talk. "PJ, I have to tell you something," she said. I nodded my head. "I hope this doesn't embarrass you, but earlier today, your father and I heard you and Alex upstairs." Oh no. I could feel my face turning red. I sunk back in my chair. I couldn't imagine anything more embarrassing that she could have told me. I wasn't sure what to do? Explain myself? Tell her she was mistaken? Start begging her to forgive me?

"I…I don't—"

"You don't have to explain yourself," she replied. "I understand why you are angry with Naomi, but you don't have break the pictures of her. When your father and I heard something smash upstairs, we knew you probably found another picture of Naomi and you." I gave the biggest sigh of relief, realizing my parents heard the framed photo smash, not anything else.

"Oh, yeah, that," I said, scratching my head. "It slipped and broke. No big deal…"

"Alright," my Mom said. "But I want you to know that if things aren't okay with you and Naomi, your dad and I are fine with that. I know you said you guys were friends and everything, but if you were just saying that to please us, you don't have to. I understand how hard it must be to call off a wedding." I nodded my head, still happy with the way this conversation turned out.

"Yeah, Mom," I said. "Of course…"

"And if you ever, ever, _ever, _need anything, just ask me," she went on to say. "You know, if you need someone to talk to or you need some advice. You have been gone awhile, but you can still talk to me. You might be some big Hollywood movie star to everyone else, but you're still my son, okay?" I chuckled, nodding my head.

"Yes, Mom," I said. I stood up, giving her a hug. She was so nice. I had always thought that she and my dad hated Naomi, yet neither of them had said anything bad about her. My mom just wanted to see my happy. That is how she was when I was a teenager and that is how she still was.

I went upstairs, going to see if Alex needed help bringing any of our stuff up. When I got there, I saw she had placed my suitcase in front of the door to my bedroom. I went across the hallway to the guest room, opening the door. She was in there, digging through her suitcase.

"Hey," she said, once I walked into the guest room. "You have a good talk with your mom?" I laughed, sitting on the edge of Al's bed.

"You know what she told me?" I said as I watched Alex unpack.

"What?"

"Early today, she heard you and me…" Alex stopped unpacking, looking up at me with wide eyes. "She heard us break that picture." She sighed, her eyes return to their normal size.

"Fuck, Johnny," she said with a laugh. "That's not funny."

"Then why are you laughing?" I said. She sighed, grabbing a random shirt out of her suitcase and throwing it at me. I grabbed before it hit me and she chuckled.

"Because you're stupid and it makes me laugh," she said, giving up on unpacking her shit and tossing her suitcase to the floor. She was about to sit down next to me, but we suddenly heard a beeping noise coming from Alex's suitcase.

"What is that?" I asked her. She shrugged, going back to her suitcase and unzipping it once again. She bent over, digging through it and looking for the source of the noise. After a few moments, she found her cell phone. She chuckled, pulling it out.

"My phone," she said, flipping it open. "I guess someone has been calling me…" We instantly looked at each other, thinking the same exact thing. Jeff was calling. _Fuck. _Alex sat back down on the edge of the bed, hitting a few buttons on the phone to retrieve the messages. "Holy shit," she said, staring at the device. "I have twenty-six missed messages!"

"Oh no," I said, looking at her phone. "Are they from Tremaine?"

"Some of them," she said. "The others are from an unknown number." She groaned, handing me the phone.

"What do you want me do with this?" I said, staring at the phone.

"Deal with it," she said, holding her face up with her hands. "I don't want to do it…" I sighed, pressing a button on the phone, playing one of the messages from the unknown number. A voice that was unfamiliar to me began to speak.

"Hey, Alex? This is Skip. Skip Arnold, your new publicist." Alex groaned.

"Shit," she complained. I sighed, continuing to listen to the message,

"I was just calling to inquire about _what the hell is going through your head right now?!_" Skip said in a rushed tone. I cringed. That sounded like a publicist alright. They were always so uptight about everything. But in this Skip guys defense, Alex and I were sure giving him a lot to worry about. "I think you forgot, Alex," Skip continued. "We are on the same team! I am trying to help you, and you got and pull a stunt like this? You leave? You don't tell anyone where you are going? And you bring the guy everyone thinks your _screwing _with you? I just want to tell you, if the media finds out about this, then you are beyond my help—or anyone's help! I suggest you give me a call and tell me where the hell you are and why you are there. And do it soon. Bye."

Alex just stared at the phone, a blank expression. I closed the phone, putting my arm around her shoulders. She sighed, resting her head on my chest. "We are so stupid," she sighed. "What was I thinking, leaving the rest of the cast? What are we doing here?"

"Trying to enjoy each other," I said. "Trying to make ourselves happy." She looked at me as I spoke, clinging onto my words. "Are you happy, Al?" She looked away, thinking about it.

"I was," she said. She thought about it a little longer and then changed her answer. "I _am. _I just feel…I don't know. Guilty?" I chuckled.

"Guilty?" I asked. "I thought you had to have a conscience to feel guilt?" she rolled her eyes, pushing me.

"Shut up," she said, grinning.

"Just wanted to see you smile again," I said, putting my hand on her cheek. Her lips curled up into a wider smile. I pressed closer to her, kissing her lips softly. After a moment, she pulled her lips away, breaking our kiss. She rested her forehead against mine, biting her bottom lip. I smiled, as she put her hands against my chest.

"And I just wanted to see you smile," she said. She turned away from me, grabbing her cell phone which was lying on the bed. I watched as she deleted all the messages on her phone.

"I love you, Al," I said.

"I love you too, Knox," she said. "I love you too much to ruin our trip with work and stress and drama. I just want to forget about it all." I smiled wider. That was exactly what I wanted, too.

We stayed at my parent's house for the rest of the night. Alex and I sat out on the back porch, talking and watching the sunset. I remember always sitting out on the back porch when I had to think. I'm pretty sure the decision to move to California was probably made while sitting on the back porch of my parent's house while the sun was setting. When I was thinking about proposing to Naomi, I sat out here with my dad, having a serious man-to-man talk. After I proposed to Naomi, I sat out here with her. She never stayed though. She would complain that it was too hot and go back inside.

"This is so nice," Alex said, looking around the backyard. "Back in New York, we could never do this. In the winter it was too cold to be outside and in the summer, the blacktop would burn the bottom of your feet off." She chuckled, shaking her head. "I like it here," she went on to say. "I wish I grew up in a place like this."

"You would have gotten sick of it," I said. "That's why I went to LA. I wanted to go to a big city. You grew up in a big city. I guess everyone just needs a change after awhile." No matter how much you love where you live or what you do, it gets old after awhile. I loved Tennessee, but I needed to leave. I loved Jackass, but I _really _needed a break from that shit. At least for a few weeks.

"You ever miss you hometown?" I asked Alex. She paused, furrowing her eyebrows. She took a few more moments to think about it.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I always tried to just forget about it. I just wanted to be as far away from New York City as I could for awhile. Everything that I associated with that place was bad. My parents. My brother. Myself. I mean, there are some good memories there, but…I don't know…" I hated hearing that. How could someone not miss their hometown at all? It wasn't fair.

"Do you think you'll ever go back?" I asked. "Just to visit, you know?"

"Maybe," she said. "Seeing you and your parents…I want that."

"You want parents?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"No," she said, smiling. "I want somebody to be _that _happy to see me. Your mom was so happy when she saw you on her porch. I wonder what my mom would say to me if I showed up outside her house." She bit her lip, looking at the sky. She reached in her pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarette. "Do your parents mind?" she asked.

"It's fine," I said as she lit the cigarette. I watched as she blew a puff of smoke out of her lips, a stern look on her face. "Did I…upset you?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No," she said. "You just asked me about things I have already thought about millions of times." She took another drag from her cigarette and I was beginning to crave one myself. "I think she would be happy to see me," she continued. "She is my mom. Doesn't she have some kind of maternal instinct that forces her to be happy when she sees me?" I shrugged. "I don't know either," she said. "I guess I was never a good daughter to her. Never made her anything for mother's day. I got her a birthday present a few times, but it was never anything special. We were just two people living in the same apartment. Especially after Solo died…" She put her cigarette back in her mouth.

"You don't have to do this," I said. "You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"I don't have anyone else to talk to about this shit," she said, her cigarette dangling out of the side of her mouth. "Telling you feels better then not telling anyone." I looked at her for a long time. Did she really feel like that? Before me, she had no one to talk to? It couldn't be true. She had friends. I bit my tongue, watching her blow clouds of smoke out of her mouth. I just wanted to help her.

"Hey you two," my mom said, walking out on to the back porch. "I was just wondering if you guys wanted…anything…" I pulled my eyes from Alex to my mom. She was giving me the weirdest look I have ever seen. Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows were raised. Did I do something wrong? I was about to ask her what was going on, but she beat me to the punch. "PJ, can you help me with something in the kitchen?" I looked up at her. This wasn't good. Whenever someone asks to talk to you in another room, it can never mean anything good.

"Sure," I said, standing up. "Be out in a minute," I told Alex. She nodded as I followed my mom inside.

I walked into the kitchen. My mom resumed her housework—putting away some dishes and scrubbing the counters down. I stood across from her, wondering what she wanted me for. I just watched as she cleaned.

"Do you need my help?" I asked, deciding that maybe she just really wanted someone to help her clean the house. She looked up at me, a distressed look on her face. She dropped her dishrag down on the counter.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" My eyes grew wide in response to her question.

"What?" I asked. "Alex? No! Where would you get that idea?" I spoke quickly, completely taken off guard. As I scrambled to answer her, she just gave me a disappointed look.

"You can't lie to me," she said, shaking her head. "A mother knows these things…" I sighed. How did she know? Did she overhear me saying something? And what was I supposed to do now? I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't make these kinds of decisions without asking Alex first. But there was no point in continuing to lie to my mom. If she knew, she knew.

I ran my hand though my hair, taking a deep breath. "Um…yeah," I said. "You're right." She sighed, shaking her head.

"Sit down," she replied. I did as she said, walking over to the table and sitting across from her. "When did all this happen?" she said. "And why didn't you tell me about it? Are you…embarrassed…?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's really complicated, Mom."

"Oh, don't give me that, PJ," she said. "You've been hiding a girlfriend from me and you expect me to be satisfied with that answer? No. You need to tell me why you've been keeping secrets from your mother." I sighed, rubbing my head. Was my mom _really _treating me like this? Maybe ten years ago, but I was an adult. I didn't have to tell her anything. I didn't have to deal with this…

"Do I need to go ask Alex about this?" my mom said, standing up.

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that!" I said. Alex would flip if she knew I told my mom about us. It would make our stay in Knoxville ten times more awkward then it already was. My mom sat back down, raising an eyebrow. Okay, I was going to have to explain everything now. I groaned, thinking about it all. Where should I start? With my break up with Naomi? No—I didn't want to bring up Naomi again. With Alex's breakup with Van? Not that…I didn't want to bring up Van, either. So what was I supposed to say? I thought about it a little longer before deciding to give my mom the simplest explanation I could come up with.

"Alex and I got together at a really bad time," I said, trying to keep things general. "There was a lot of attention on us because the second season of the show was about to premiere. It was Alex's first season and we didn't think it would look good if we came out as…you know…a couple."

"Why not?" my mom said. "All those other celebrities are always dating and breaking up. They don't seem to have any problems dating who they want to—"

"Come on, Mom," I insisted. "Jackass finally gets a girl on the cast and she is dating someone on the show? You know what people are going to say. It doesn't look good."

"I didn't know the cast of Jackass was a crew that really cared about their reputations," my mom sneered sarcastically.

"Well…we make mistakes," I said. We _tried _not to make huge scenes every time we went out, but we were usually unsuccessful. Well intentioned, but unsuccessful.

"I can see that," my mom said. "You know, I try not to tell you what to do anymore. You are grown now and you can make your own decisions—your own _mistakes. _But I don't like what this show is doing to you. I try not to watch the talk shows and I don't read the magazines, but what am I supposed to do when I am at the supermarket and people are asking me about the latest scandal all of you are involved in? I don't believe those stories, but if they're true, PJ—"

"They're not," I cut in.

"I don't like the business you are in," she said. "It isn't good for you. It isn't good for anyone. And how long do you expect it to last?" I sighed, looking down. I didn't expect it to last long. I hated thinking about it though. "What are you going to do when it's over?" she continued. It was an honest question. I just didn't have an answer.

"I…I don't know," I said. She nodded.

"Well you need to think about it," she said. "I don't want to fight with you. I never see you anymore and I don't want to end things on a sour note. Will you just promise to think about your future sometimes, PJ?" I nodded. "Thank you, sweetie." She added.

I sighed. That was just as uncomfortable as I thought it was going to be. So let's see, my mom just told me she didn't like my job, my friends, or my girlfriend. No…that wasn't right. She didn't know Alex. She would like her after she got to know her. What wasn't to like? She could get an attitude when she wanted to. And she was a bit reckless. And my mom really hated to see girls drink…or smoke…or swear. Okay, maybe we were going to have a problem…

"Please don't say anything to Al about this, okay?" I asked my mom. "She'll get really nervous if she finds out that you know about us. I'll tell her everything later."

"If that's what you want," she said. I stood up, walking out back out to the porch.

"Thanks, Mom," I said before leaving.

When I walked backed out on the porch, I saw Alex sitting there staring at her cigarette. "What did your mom want?" she asked, looking up at me. I sighed, sitting down beside her. I took her cigarette from her, taking a drag off of it.

"She just reminded me why I never come down here to visit," I said. Alex chuckled as I sunk in my chair. "She doesn't like what we do on the show."

"I don't like what we do on the show either," Alex said. "The day I _enjoy _that shit Jeff makes us do is the same day you admit me into the nearest mental institution you can find." I laughed, blowing smoke out of my mouth. "She's probably worried you're going to get hurt or something."

"She's doesn't like our lifestyle," I said. Alex nodded, understating what I meant. Our lifestyle consisted of drinking all night and sleeping all day. The only thing that motivated us to get out of bed was filming. I guess it wasn't the life a mother would want for her son, but I was getting paid for it after all. "She probably thinks I am going to drink myself into a coma one of these days." Alex smiled.

"Fuck it, we're young," she said.

"_You're _young," I corrected. Alex groaned.

"Please, you're thirty, not fifty."

"But I should have shit figured out by now," I said. "Or at least have a game plan. I am kind of just fucking around." I sighed and Alex put her hand on my knee. I blew another puff of smoke. "Even though my mom didn't love Naomi, I think she liked that I was settling down. Naomi had her faults, but for the most part she had her shit together. My mom wants me to get my shit together."

"Who cares what your mom wants?" Alex said. "I know you love her, but Johnny, this is _your life. _Do what you want. Do you really want to settle down? Because you sure don't act like you're ready to settle down."

"I'm not," I said. "I wish I was, but I'm not. I don't know if I will ever be."

"Screw settling down," Alex laughed. "We will be sixty years old, still bar hopping and raising hell with the Jackass guys."

"You're probably right," I said, smiling. Alex smiled back.

"Now cheer up," she said. "Stop worrying about everything for a minute and just—" Alex's phone rang, cutting her off midsentence. We both exchanged a look as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She looked at me, unsure of what to do. I wasn't really sure what she should do either. I watched her stare at the device, furrowing her eyebrows. I shrugged. She opened the phone, bringing it to her ear.

"Hello?" she said, her voice sounding like she was in pain. I waited quietly, wanting to know who it was that called her. After a few moments, I saw the expression on Alex's face soften.

"Cameron!" she said, smiling. I sighed. It was just her friend, thank God. The last thing I needed was to have Jeff yelling at us. I continued to smoke my cigarette until it was nothing more than a stub as Alex talked to Cameron.

"I know, I know," Al said into her phone. "I'm sorry. I wanted to call, but I have been really busy. We're doing shit 24/7 over here. Seriously, never get a break…" Alex looked at me with a sly smile. I laughed.

"How's everything going in California?" Alex went on to say. She paused, listening to what Cameron had to say. She nodded her head. "Really? They're calling you? Shit, I'm sorry, Cam…" I could hear Cameron was saying something on the other line, but I couldn't make out what she was saying.

"It was hell, Cam! We had to—" Cameron cut Alex off. Al sighed, slumping back in her chair. "I know. You can tell them that I'm really sorry but I would have blown my head off if I had to stay in that fucking hotel room for another day." She chuckled. "Well don't tell them that…" I raised an eyebrow, really wanting to know what they were talking about.

"I don't know if I should…"Alex said into the phone. Cameron shouted something and Alex groaned. She seemed to be mulling something over in her mind. "I know, but—" Cameron cut Alex off again. A few moments passed before Alex said, "Fine. We're in Knoxville, okay? Tennessee…"

I shot Alex a concerned look, nudging her knee. Alex looked back at me, shrugging. I know Cameron was her good friend and all, but I still didn't want Al to be telling people where we were. If the media found out, we would be screwed. I didn't really know Cameron, but Alex knew her really well. I assumed that she wasn't the type of person who would sell her friend out for some money, but when you are in this industry, you can never really know for sure.

"I don't know how long we're going to stay," Alex said into the phone, still talking with Cameron. "Until we are ready to come back." Al chuckled at whatever Cameron said. "Alright. Talk to you later." She pulled the phone away from her ear, pressing a button and ending the conversation.

"So what was that all about?" I asked. Alex ran her hands through her mess of dirty blonde curls, shaking her head.

"Jeff called Cameron a few hours ago," Alex explained. "When I first agreed to do Jackass, I guess I put her down as family when I was filling out some paper work. She's the closest thing to family I've got, but whatever. Jeff got her phone number from the paper work and called her, asking if she knew what was going on with me."

"Really?" I said, a little shocked. "What'd she say?"

"Nothing," Alex replied. "She didn't know anything was going on to begin with. For all she knew, we were still in London working on the press junket. But Jeff got her all worried so she decided to try and give me a call and see if I'd pick up."

"You told her where we were?" I asked.

"Yeah," she answered. "It's no big deal, though. I trust Cameron completely. She wouldn't do anything stupid. She's not like that." I nodded. If Alex trusted her, then I trusted her. But then again, I trusted Naomi completely, too…

"How angry do you think Jeff is going to be the next time we see him?" I said with a laugh. Alex thought about it for a minute.

"You know, I feel like he won't be too pissed," she said. "He is going to be angry for awhile, but I think he is really just worried about us. He probably just wants to make sure we're okay." Honestly, I had never thought about it like that before. Jeff was out boss, but he'd always be our friend first. Alex was right—he probably was just making sure we were safe. And we weren't even answering his phone calls. I guess that made us pretty shitty friends.

"I hope your right, Alex," I said, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly in mine. She smiled, nimbly lacing her fingers with mine. "I hope your right."


	17. Parents Just Don't Understand (Alex)

**Just One of the Boys**

_Chapter Seventeen: Parents Just Don't Understand (Alex)_

We were only four days in and I was already over it. Johnny was right. Knoxville lost its charm. Quickly.

I felt like I didn't belong in Tennessee. Staying with Johnny's parents was weird. His mom and dad were nice to me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was an unwanted guest. I told Johnny I was feeling this way, but he told me I was just being paranoid. I believed him. I had no real reason to suspect that Johnny's folks didn't like me, so I tried to just forget about it and move on. But I couldn't help feeling like an intruder in this sleepy, little town. I wasn't a small town girl. Never was. How was I supposed to fit in? It seemed impossible.

I also realized what Johnny meant when he said there was nothing to do around town. There was no skate park. The nearest beach was hours away. There wasn't even a goddamn movie theater in the area. I would have gone insane if I was living in this town as a teenager. In New York there was something to do every night. We'd go to a party or a skate park or we'd just go to someone's apartment to hang out. In Knoxville, everything seemed to move a little slower. While this laidback way of life seemed nice at first, it was just make me antsy now.

It wasn't just the calm atmosphere of the town that was making me anxious. The calls from Skip and Jeff weren't helping, either. Every time my phone rang, I felt a nauseating sense of guilt. Here I was, lazily lying around a little town while my friends were probably breaking their backs to cover my ass. I bet Jeff was flipping out because he didn't know where Johnny and I were. And not because he was our boss and we were messing with his business, but because we were his friends. He probably just wanted to know everything was okay. Whenever I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket I had the urge to just pick it up and tell Jeff everything, but I always fought the urge. Johnny and I did this for a reason. I had to just learn to turn the phone off. Besides, if it was Skip calling, then I had no reason to pick up. I barely knew the publicist, but he was already comfortable with leaving me nasty messages on my phone, shouting at me about leaving town and not telling anyone. I understand that what Johnny and I did wasn't the best decision in terms of our _image, _but I wasn't really concerned with my image at the moment. I wasn't too concerned with my reputation or what anyone thought about me. I was concerned with my life.

Coming to Tennessee was supposed to be a way for Johnny and me to sort things out. Going to a small town without telling anyone was supposed to be easy. It wasn't either of those things. Things were just as hard in Knoxville as they were in California or London or anywhere else. While I might have been relieved of doing interviews and going on talk shows, I now had to deal with all of Johnny's old friends and family. I felt like I had to be on my best behavior all the time. I had to impress his old friends, but I had to make sure I didn't do anything that would make his parents raise an eyebrow. I had to make sure that I wasn't acting too much like Johnny's girlfriend when other people were around, and I had to make sure that when no one was around I wasn't acting to distant. I couldn't swear around his mother and I couldn't smoke in the house. Johnny warned me that I better not drink either. Mom wouldn't be too fond of that. _Holy shit, who did Johnny's mom think we were? _Anyone could flip on the television and assume what kind of people we were. We did what we wanted to. We didn't care what people thought. But now we did. Now we _had _to. Everything came back to our image and our brand and our reputation. I wanted to go back to the days when I could walk down the street and just be some other nobody. After spending all this time deciding what the media could know and what I wanted to keep secret, I think I forgot what was true and what wasn't. The thin line between Alex Kidd the Jackass and Alex Kidd the person was fading and I know longer knew which was which.

This was all so fake. All of it. It was all so pointless and dumb. Why couldn't I be completely honest about everything? Why couldn't everyone know about Johnny and I? Was hiding it really worth the grief? I didn't know. Coming out about our relationship would cause a lot of drama with the media and the paparazzi, but maybe it would have been easier that way. I didn't know and I didn't feel like thinking about it. It stressed me out.

Johnny knew how I was feeling. I just felt out of place. When he introduced me to his old friends and various family members, I found myself in an awkward position. I tried to be polite, quiet, nice—you know, how you're supposed to act around your boyfriend's family—but everyone I met didn't expect me to act that way. They had all seen me on Jackass. They saw the interviews on TV and they read the articles. People didn't want me to smile and shake their hand when I met them, they wanted me to do something stupid and reckless. I didn't really mind playing that role. It was easier to be Alex the Jackass than it was to be Alex the kind young woman who Johnny's parents wanted me to be. Still, putting on a performance for everyone I came into contact with was a struggle. Johnny understood.

"When I started Jackass, people treated me the same way they're treating you now," he told me. "They just want to see us fuck shit up. It's annoying, but you'll get used to it. Eventually." I didn't really think I was going to get used to any of this shit any time soon, but I decided to take Johnny's word for it. He understood all the stuff I was going through. He had been through it all before. And because of it, he cut me some slack. He stopped asking me to go out and meet his friends. He would just go out on his own, letting me stay home. He did this almost every night, telling me he was going to meet up with some of his old buddies. Initially I was happy about this, but being left at Johnny's parents' house offered a new set of problems. I couldn't stay cooped up in the guest room all day. I had to go downstairs and try to socialize with his parents.

Anytime Johnny went out, I would go talk with his parents. Philip was great. He was a funny guy and I was positive that Johnny got his sense of humor from him. He never questioned me about anything, he would just turn on some football game and make fun of all the players. I was never a huge fan of team sports, but I have to admit that Philip made it pretty entertaining.

Conversations with Lemoyne were always interesting, to say the least. She wasn't as easy going as her husband, but she was still a nice lady. I would try to help her out in the kitchen, but I always felt like I was more of a hindrance to her than a help. She never complained, though. She would just keep working, telling me little stories about Johnny's childhood or her past experiences with the Jackass cast. I enjoyed her stories, but she would always turn things on me. She would start telling me a story about Johnny's engagement to Naomi, but then she would ask me about my thoughts on marriage. "Have you ever been engaged?" she would ask. I would answer that I haven't but she'd keep going. "Do you want to get married in the future?" she would ask every once in awhile. I never had an answer, so she would continue to bombard me with various relationship questions. Sometimes she would ask "Have you ever been in a serious relationship?" or "How old do you think you'll be when you settle down with a man?" Then there was always my personal favorite: "Do you want kids?" While I found these questions extremely personal, I tried to answer it the best I could. Most the time I just ended up stuttering, "I don't know."

I wasn't sure why Lemoyne was treating me this way. I thought maybe it was just her way of getting to know me, but I couldn't help but feel like she was interrogating me every time she spoke to me. Our conversations were strained and awkward and just unpleasant. I wanted her to like me, I really did, but I felt like she was judging me. She was never happy with the half-baked stories I told her when she asked about my family. She always sighed impatiently when I gave her little information about my upbringing. I wanted to please her, but what I supposed to say? _Oh, my dad? Never met him. My mom? She was alcoholic. And my brother. Well, it's a long story. _There was no easy way to explain my past. I'd rather just stay mum on the whole subject. Still, I tried to stay positive while in Knoxville. But that became harder to do after every passing day.

I woke up on the fourth day of our stay in Knoxville at about eight o'clock. Back home in LA, I usually never woke up before none unless it was for work, but I couldn't do that while I was staying with Johnny's parents. I didn't want them to know what a lazy twenty-two-year-old I was. So I got up early, taking a quick shower before getting dressed and going downstairs. Being the sweet woman that she was, Lemoyne made a huge breakfast every morning and whether I felt like eating a huge meal or not, I would always show her the respect and eat with her and her family. If she had the hospitality to do all this for Johnny and me, I would show her I was thankful in any way I could. But this particular morning when I went downstairs to the kitchen, I didn't see anyone. Lemoyne wasn't buzzing around the room like usual, cooking and cleaning. I shrugged, walking into the dining room. No one was in there either. _That was odd…_

While standing in the dining room, I heard Johnny's voice in the living room. Then I heard Lemoyne speak. _What are they doing in there? _I thought, walking towards the door. I listened closer to what they were saying as I placed my hand on the doorknob. It sounded like they were..._fighting? _Johnny shouted something and I heard Lemoyne shout something back. They were definitely arguing about something. I took my hand off the doorknob, deciding to just leave them alone and go back to the guestroom. I didn't want to intrude on whatever issues they were trying to flesh out. But as I stepped away from the door, I felt the urge to stay. I wanted to know what was going on. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help myself—I quietly opened the door a crack, trying to see what was going on.

I peered into the living room, watching the scene unfold. Lemoyne was sitting on the couch and Johnny was standing up, pacing back and forth. It almost looked like he was scolding her. That was definitely weird. Johnny was such a mama's boy—seeing him raise his voice to his mother was strange. I continued to look around the living room. I saw a stack of magazines sitting on the coffee table. Didn't Lemoyne say she didn't read those? I wondered what that was all about.

"Mom, you know those are all lies," Johnny said, pointing at the stack of magazines on the table. "You know that. Why did you go out and get them all? How could you even read all that garbage?"

"What did you expect me to do?" Lemoyne replied. "You won't tell me anything about her. She won't tell me anything about herself. I was curious." I groaned. Were they talking about me? It made sense. I _hadn't_ told Lemoyne anything about myself. I suddenly felt sick. She went out and bought some tabloids to read about me? God—those stories were all so incriminating. I wish I had just opened up to her when she first tried to get me to talk her. Although my family life was pretty fucked up, I would have rather had her hear it from me than out of a magazine.

"I don't know, Mom," Johnny said, shaking his head. "But you shouldn't have done this. If Al finds out she will freak out…"

"You know, Johnny, I am starting to wonder about this girl," Lemoyne said. "You keep telling me not to do this around her and not to say that around her or she will flip out. I just want to get to know her, but you are making it seem like that is going to be impossible. What is with all the secrets? I mean, you've been dating her for months and she doesn't want to tell anyone? What is with that?" I felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. Lemoyne knew about Johnny and me? She knew? _Shit, shit, shit. _Here I was, trying to keep Lemoyne in the dark about everything, and she knew it all the whole time. She knew about my relationship with her son and she knew about my past and she knew what a piece of shit I was. I put my hands through my hair, wanting to stop watching it but finding it impossible to do. I had to keep watching. I had to hear what else she knew.

"I told you, it didn't look good for us to come out as a couple," Johnny said, trying to defend me. "And telling you and dad just complicates everything. She was afraid you were going to judge her if you knew we were dating. And it looks like she was right—"

"I did not pass any judgment on that girl," his mother retorted. "I didn't have anything to judge. She hasn't told me a thing other than her name…"

"Mom, you always judge the girls I date."

"You date the wrong girls."

"You don't even know Alex!"

"Well what I do know is less than satisfying," Lemoyne went on to say. "You know what I read in those magazines? I read that she didn't even finish high school for Christ's sake. And I read that she has a bad drinking problem. And that she is involved with drugs." Johnny was about to speak, but Lemoyne cut him off. "Don't try to tell me that all of those stories are lies. I hate to say this but I don't believe you, PJ. Those magazines are saying that you two are dating and that's the truth. There has to be some truth to what they are saying about her. You can tell what kind of girl she is just by looking at her. That's not the kind of girl I want to see with my son." _What the hell was that supposed to mean? _I looked at Johnny, hoping he would defend me. He was silent.

I bit my tongue, realizing what a deep hole Johnny and I had dug ourselves into. By trying to hide our relationship and avoid drama we had made things harder for both of us. Now because of my own fears, I was dragging Johnny's family into the mess I had created. I felt sick with guilt. I didn't know what to do.

"PJ, I only want what's best for you," Lemoyne said, standing up and walking towards Johnny. "You know I didn't like Naomi too much. It was because I knew you weren't happy with her. But Naomi was an adult. She would have been ready to settle down and start a family with you. She could have given you what you needed, PJ. What can Alex give you? She is still a child. How old is she? Twenty-one or twenty-two? What are you even doing with a girl that young? Are you just wasting your time with her or do you think you seriously have a future with her? Because I'll tell you right now, you aren't going to be able to settle down with that one. She's nothing special, honey. You could do better." Her words were bitter. They stung. Mostly because they were true. Johnny didn't shout back at her. He was silent once again. And staring at him, I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. For a moment, he wondered if his mother was right. He wondered if he shouldn't be with me. He wondered if he needed a woman like Naomi, not one like me. Seeing that unsure look in his eye hurt me. I didn't want to see anymore.

I tore my eyes away from the scene, walking back upstairs to the guestroom. I felt like some sort of mean joke was being played on me. Like everyone knew something that I didn't. I hated this feeling. Johnny wasn't going to tell me about how his mother felt about me. He wasn't going to tell me that she knew we were dating. No one was going to tell me a thing. I thought I was the one hiding things from everyone, but really, everyone was hiding things from me. I knew Johnny was just trying to protect me, but if he was questioning our relationship because of something his mother said, we were going to have some serious issues. Like we didn't already have enough serious issues…

I went back up to the guestroom and stayed there for a few hours. I skipped breakfast because I really didn't feel like going down there and mustering up a fake smile for a woman I knew disliked me. So I just paced around the guestroom, wondering what to do next. One thing was for sure—I wasn't going to be able to stay in the Clapp house for much longer. I felt as though I had already overstayed my welcome. I'd rather leave before something really regrettable happened.

The day passed by at a sluggish rate. I did whatever I could to pass the time. I packed up my things, deciding that I didn't want to stay here another night. I would go to a motel or something. I screwed around with my phone, checking to see if I had gotten anymore calls. I hadn't. I gave Cameron a call, thinking that I could kill some time chatting with her about something that had nothing to do with Jackass or Johnny, but she didn't pick up. Figures.

At about noon, Johnny knocked on the door of my room. "Come in," I said before he opened the door. He walked in, steeping towards me with a smile on his face. Like nothing was wrong whatsoever. He was an actor, after all.

"You've been in here all morning," he said in a light tone. He sat down on the foot of my bed, where I was laying on my back, staring at the ceiling. "Have you been laying here all day?" he continued to ask. I sat up, looking at him. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't know if I wanted to go on pretending I didn't hear the things his mother said about me or if I wanted to tell him the truth. I looked into his eyes, wishing I hadn't heard anything in the first place. When Johnny looked back at me, he immediately understood. He saw the disappointment in my eyes. He saw it all.

"Alex," he said, putting his hand on mine, the smile on his lips disappearing.

"I heard you and your mom this morning," I said, pulling away from him. "Why didn't you tell me that she knew about us? Why didn't you tell me that she fucking hates me?" He shook his vigorously, demanding that I was wrong.

"She doesn't hate you," Johnny said. "She is worried about me. She thinks I am getting involved with the wrong crowd. She is being hard on all the people I hang around with. It is nothing personal, I promise."

"She wants me to be Naomi," I said, standing up. "She wants me to be mature and beautiful and put together and perfect. I can't do it, Johnny. I can't be the person she wants me to be." Johnny didn't speak. "Is that who you want me to be? Because if you are listening to Lemoyne and you are questioning our relationship—"

"Baby, stop," Johnny said, standing up and walking towards me. "Fuck what anyone thinks of you. Fuck what anyone thinks of _us_." He put his arms around my waste, his face inches from mine. "You know I love you. You know I do…"

"This isn't working," I said. "Keeping our relationship a secret. But we can't tell everyone. I can't. I don't know what to do." I put my head on his shoulder, wishing all that mattered was how Johnny and I felt about each other. I wished we had met under different circumstances. I wished he wasn't Johnny Knoxville and I wasn't Alexandra Kidd. I wish we weren't _those people from Jackass. _If we were just any other two people and no one was gossiping about us. We wouldn't have to worry about anything. But it wasn't like that and I would just have to find a way to deal with it all.

"I think we've backed ourselves into a corner," Johnny whispered. I sighed. He was right. I didn't want him to say that, though. I wanted him to tell me there was another option. I wanted him to have a plan or an idea or something that would get us out of this mess. But we were both fresh out of clever plans. We lied to our friends and family, we made up false stories on interviews—we left the goddamn country. There was nothing more we could do.

"We've got to tell the guys, Alex," Johnny said. "I know it is going to be hard, but we've got to do it. I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me. And who knows, maybe Dunn will help us out when the guys give us hell. I mean, he has had more time to accept the fact that we're dating." I groaned and Johnny chuckled. "Just trying to help, Al."

"I know," I said. "But this is going to be terrible. The guys are going to give me shit for the rest of my life. And your mom already thinks I'm wrong for you. I couldn't imagine having a serious conversation with her about…_us." _Johnny sighed, rubbing my back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I tried to lie to her but she knew. It's only a matter of time before everyone knows…" I cringed at his words. Why did telling everyone about relationship bear such a negative connotation? Why couldn't people just be happy for us? And why did I have this feeling that once everyone knew, things would only go downhill for Johnny and I?

"Come on," Johnny said, tugging on my hand. "Let's get out of here. You've been in this room too long for one day." I chuckled. He was right. I guess I could have used some fresh air or something. Johnny took my hand, walking downstairs with me. As we walked to the front door, I saw Lemoyne sitting in the living room, reading a book. Out of habit, I wanted to rip my hand away from Johnny's, but I realized I didn't have to. Lemoyne knew about Johnny and me and there was no reason to pretend that we weren't a couple. So I just held onto his hand as we walked to the front door. Lemoyne looked up at us for a moment, but almost immediately looked back down at her book. Probably didn't want to see her son holding onto the trashy little twenty-something he found in the slums of LA. It was understandable, but it didn't make things any less awkward.

"She'll get over it," Johnny said as we walked outside. "She's protective."

"I know, I know," I said. While I couldn't say I knew from firsthand experience, it made sense that a mother would be judgmental of her son's new girlfriend. And to be fair, I really wasn't the type of girl that any guy would _want _to bring home to their mom. But as I came to terms with the fact that Lemoyne wasn't my biggest fan, I cared less and less about what she thought. I'd try to be nice to her. I'd try to get on her good side. But if she didn't like me, there wasn't much I could do. Maybe she'd come around later.

"So how bad do you hate my family?" Johnny snickered, throwing his arm over my shoulder. We walked together down the sidewalk, passing houses on our way into town.

"Not at all," I replied. "Your dad is awesome and your mom loves you to death. Don't fight with your folks about me. It's not worth it."

"_You're _worth it," Johnny replied. "You're a part of my life now, Al. She needs to accept it. She will, but it is going to take longer than I hoped." I chuckled. I guess I wasn't as charismatic as I liked to pretend I was. Then again, my relationship with my own mother was pretty much nonexistent, so why did I think I would be able to befriend anyone else's mother? I was hopeless.

"We've got time," I said. "Don't push her."

"That's not the point," Johnny continued, sliding his hand from around my shoulders to around my waste. "I felt like she was going behind my back. When I saw her reading those magazines to find out about our relationship I felt like she betrayed me or something—"

"She wasn't reading them to find out about our relationship," I countered. "She was doing it to find out about me." Johnny didn't reply. I was right. His mom wanted the dirt and she knew where to find it. "And you know, it pisses me off that after all of this, Naomi is _still _the good one. I might have had some problems, but I have never hurt you. I have never gone behind your back. I never cheated on you. I'd do anything for you. But Naomi is still the saint." Maybe if Johnny informed his mom about the whole cheating scandal with Naomi I wouldn't have looked so shitty. Naomi wasn't as perfect as everyone cracked her up to be. She was just as bad as the rest of us. But for some reason, the media never harped on what a piece of shit Naomi was. It was me. It wasn't fair.

"Don't worry about Naomi," Johnny said. "Naomi is…_Naomi. _She does what she wants and she never gets caught. She's manipulative. She's always been like that and it's never going to change. Stop comparing yourself to her, babe."

"I can't," I groaned. "Everyone else is comparing me to her. Right when the paparazzi set their sights on me, I have been the chick that was screwing the engaged dude. They've got it all wrong."

"They tend to do that," Johnny said. "It sells magazines."

"It's bullshit."

"It's life," he said. "But like I said before, you're worth it." He kissed my cheek. I smiled at his words.

"You know what, Johnny?" I said as we walked. "I think we are taking things to seriously lately. We need to act like we did right when we started dating. When we were drinking and sleeping on the beach and telling the paparazzi to go fuck themselves…"

"You just want to start trouble," Johnny replied. "You just like fucking with people. Trouble maker…"

"Me? A trouble maker?" I said sarcastically. "Never."

"You've been causing me trouble since day one," Johnny laughed. "But you know what—"

"Let me guess," I smiled. "I'm worth it?"

"Absolutely."

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"Okay, look to your right," Johnny said, laughing hysterically. "First date?" I turned my head, looking at a couple eating dinner at a table adjacent to ours. The guy kept talking and talking and the girl looked like she'd rather be anywhere in the world other than eating dinner with that guy. I laughed.

"Oh, definitely," I replied. "Looks like it might be their last date, too." Johnny smiled. We had been doing this for awhile—sitting in a booth in the back of some bar, making fun of all the people who came in."She is counting the minutes," I continued, eyeing the couple.

"But he's still talking," Johnny said. "He's either trying really hard to make a good impression, or he just doesn't realize that she doesn't care about what he's talking about."

"Look. He's trying to make a move."

Johnny and I both watched as the guy put his hand on the chick's thigh. Looking repulsed, the girl slowly pulled away from him, giving an awkward smile in an attempt to cover up the fact that she couldn't stand this guy. I chuckled.

"How much longer you think she's gonna last?" Johnny asked.

"She'll be out of here in the next ten minutes," I guaranteed. "Five, maybe."

"Really?" Johnny said. "That's pretty quick. Maybe she'll give him the benefit of a doubt…"

"I wouldn't stick around if I were her," I said. "If you know it's not going to go anywhere, why stay, you know?" Johnny chuckled.

"Oh, okay," Johnny said, smiling. "I knew girls like that in high school. They'd go on a date with a guy and leave within five minutes. They'd say they had to go to the bathroom and never come back. Was that how you did it, Alex?" I chuckled, shaking my head.

"No," I said. "I didn't date that much in high school. But even if I did, I would be honest and tell the guy that he was a creepy fuck and I was leaving."

"What a lovely lady I'm dating," Johnny said. I smiled, rolling my eyes. "Picture of class, really…"

"Honesty is the best policy, right?" I said. "Just look at that chick." Johnny looked back at the awkward first date that was going on across from us. "She's pulling out her cell phone. Probably pretending to get a phone call so she has an excuse to leave…"

"Oh—I think you're right," Johnny said. Sure enough, the girl looked down at the phone, her eyes growing wide. Her jaw dropped and she covered her mouth with her hand. She said something to the guy before standing up and grabbing her purse and rushing to the door dramatically. I chuckled at her zealous performance.

"She makes you look like a good actor, Johnny," I said. I laughed at my own joke and Johnny smiled, playfully kicking me under the table.

"Shut up, Al," he said.

"Make me, babe."

"You know, one time I am going to get you back for all the mean shit you say to me," Johnny started to threaten. "And it is going to be so funny. We'll film it and put it on Jackass." I chuckled.

"You do that, Johnny," I said. "But I'll always…"

"I know," he said. "If I knew how to outsmart a woman I would have saved myself a hell of a lot of trouble…"

"I think you're just a bad judge of character," I said, smiling. "I mean, you're convinced that dating me is a good idea."

"You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, Alex," he said. I bit my bottom lip. "And if we weren't in a public place right now, I would definitely kiss you." I chuckled.

"We're so romantic," I said sarcastically. Johnny laughed, grabbing my hands in his—under the table, of course. "When do you think this charade is going to end? I mean, everyone has to find out sometime…"

"Honestly?" Johnny said, stroking my palm. "I think everyone is going to find out soon. Really soon. But it isn't when it happens that I care about. I just wonder if they are all going to find out on our terms or on their own." I nodded. I guess the adult thing to do would be to tell everyone the truth ourselves and be completely honest about everything. But we would probably just wait until the media and our friends and family cornered us and forced the truth out of us. That seemed like it was more our style.

"Well if we decide to tell the guys before they find out on their own, you can be the one to do it," I said. Johnny groaned. The thought of having to sit down with the cast and tell them that I was dating Johnny made me nervous. Steve would be freaking out, Chris would be making fun of us and laughing like a maniac, Bam would probably think we were kidding, and Jeff would probably shit himself. Well, at least Dunn already knew. That was one less person to tell. Regardless, Johnny and I both didn't want to tell the guys about us and because of it, we would probably keep this charade going as long as we possibly could.

Johnny was about to say something when I noticed some guys were staring at is. I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" Johnny asked. I looked at the guys out of the corner of my eye. They probably recognized us from TV or something. When I saw them begin to walk over to us, I sighed.

"Fans," I said. Johnny nodded, sitting up a little bit straighter. As grateful as we were for our fans, it was a little irritating when we got approached every time we went out. These guys seemed pleasant enough though. Sometimes, we would get approached by some drunk douche bags in a bar. They would walk over and either try to hit on me or start a fight with one of the guys. The drunk chicks were even worse. They would stumble over to us and they'd be all over the guys. It was funny every once in awhile, but when any girl got to close to Johnny I would feel insanely jealous. I tried not to show it, but I am sure Johnny knew how I felt. Thankfully, though, these two guys approaching us now looked pretty much sober.

"Um, hi," said one of the guys. He had curly, dark brown hair and a soft smile. His friend—a blonde guy that was standing beside him—was looking back and forth between Johnny and me. "We're big fans of Jackass and we were just wondering if we could get a quick picture." The blonde guy pulled a camera out of his pocket.

"Sure thing," Johnny said with a smile. He was so good at this stuff. I still felt kind of weird being approached by people I have never met. Johnny was probably just used to it. And besides, I usually just took the pictures. But this time, oddly enough, instead of handing me the camera like fans normally did, the blonde guy shoved the camera towards Johnny. Johnny just stared down at the camera, as if he didn't understand. A huge smile spread across my face. Johnny looked up at me, seeing my cocky grin. _Oh, how the tables have turned._

I got up from my seat, standing between the two guys. I put my hands around their shoulders and I could see Johnny an unhappy glint in Johnny's eyes. He was the jealous one now_. _I smiled at the thought. I was always the one who had to watch him flirt with our fans and now he was the one who had to squirm while I talked with the fans. Needless to say, I found this change pretty amusing. Johnny, on the other hand, looked less than happy about it.

"Okay," Johnny said, holding up the camera. "One…two…three." The camera flashed, snapping a picture. "There you go," he added, handing the camera back to the blonde guy.

"Thank you so much," the guy with dark hair said. "I am just such a big fan of the show. You're…you're really great on the cast…" He looked down nervously at his hands. I chuckled, putting my hand on his shoulder.

"You're so sweet," I laughed, looking back at Johnny. "Isn't he sweet, Johnny?" Johnny looked at me with unamused eyes.

"Fucking adorable," he groaned. I chuckled, shaking my head.

"Well, thanks for the picture," the blonde guy said.

"Welcome," I said before he left with his friend. Once they were gone, I sat back down. Johnny gave me a look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What was that?" he said.

"What was what?" I replied, smiling and pretending I had no idea what he was talking about. "I was just speaking with some of our fans…"

"You were flirting with him," Johnny said. I raised my eyebrows, looking at him like he was crazy.

"I was not _flirting _with him," I said. "He wanted a picture so I took a picture with him. You know, I am not a total bitch to every person I talk to."

"_You _were flirting with him," Johnny insisted. I shook my head. _"Isn't he sweet, Johnny?" _he began to mock, imitating my voice. I chuckled, shaking my head.

"I think you're just mad because it wasn't you getting the attention for once," I said.

"No I'm not," Johnny replied. I laughed and I saw a smile appear on his face.

"I think you are," I said. "You've always girls chasing you down for pictures and shit. And you _always _flirt with them." Johnny began to shake his head, but I spoke again before he could. "Don't even deny it, Johnny. You flirt with every girl that talks to you." His smile grew wider. He knew I was right.

"Maybe I do flirt sometimes—"

"You always do," I said with a smile. I didn't really care that he flirted with our fans. I thought it was kind of funny at times. And as long as he was coming home to me, I didn't see a problem. "If I flirted with guys like you flirt with girls, you would lose your goddamn mind."Johnny pouted and I laughed.

"I would not…"

"Yeah you would," I replied. "You get jealous when I talking to Steve for too long."

"If you heard some of the shit he says about you, you would be worried too." I rolled my eyes.

"Do you not trust me or something?" I said.

"I trust you," he said. "I don't trust him…" I laughed. That was so cliché. And besides, Steve was just my friend. He was a really good friend, too. I couldn't imagine being anything other than his friend. That would just be weird. It would be like I was kissing my brother or something. Gross. But still, Johnny didn't understand that I could hang out with guys without wanting to screw them all.

"Yeah, you better watch me while I'm around him," I said sarcastically, messing with Johnny. "I can't control myself around a guy that can puke up a live goldfish. I've always had a fetish for guys that can do that." He laughed, shaking his head. The idea of Steve and me dating was beyond ridiculous.

"I didn't mean it like that, Al—" Johnny started, but I interrupted him.

"No, I understand," I said, slightly smiling. "You are just insecure with yourself…"

"I am not," he demanded while I chuckled. "I just don't want other guys touching my girl." I smiled. _My girl. _It made me happy to hear him say that.

"You're cute when you're overprotective," I said. He smiled. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could do so, some chick walked up to our table. I sighed, realizing it was _another _fan. It was annoying, but what can you do? I was about to smile and greet her, but before I could, she spoke. What she said surprised me, but I think Johnny was the one who was really surprised.

_"PJ!" _the girl exclaimed, standing by our table. She had a huge smile on her face. Johnny looked at her with wide eyes. I probably looked as shocked as he did. _Who was this chick and how did she know Johnny? _She was a brunette with tan skin and a bright smile. She spoke with a southern accent. I looked her up and down, still confused by her presence. Johnny was little help

"Miranda," he said, slightly smiling and laughing nervously. "What are you doing here…?"

"What am I doing here?" she chuckled. "What are you doing here? You haven't visited Knoxville in ages!" My eyes flickered back and forth between Johnny and this Miranda girl. I had no idea who she was. Johnny never mentioned a Miranda before.

"I, uh, had some time off work and I thought I'd come catch up with everyone…" Johnny said. Miranda nodded her head fervently as if she was hanging onto his every word.

"And you didn't give me a call?" she said, leaning on the table. She struck me as one of those bubbly chicks who were always laughing and smiling. How annoying.

"Slipped my mind, I guess," Johnny said, smiling weakly.

"Slipped your mind, huh? God, PJ, it is so good to see you," she said with a huge grin. "Well, you've got to tell me about everything." She looked to me before her eyes flickered back to Johnny. "Do you mind if I sit down for a minute?"

"Not at all," I said dully. "The more the merrier…" Miranda smiled and sat down beside Johnny.

"Uh, Miranda this is my friend Alex," Johnny said, trying to introduce me to the girl. I felt the urge to tell her I was his _girlfriend _opposed to just his friend, but I fought the urge. "And Alex, this is Miranda…" The girl put her head on his shoulder. I narrowed my eyes. Why the hell was she touching him? I was feeling protective and I knew I shouldn't have been, but I couldn't help myself. I didn't know who this girl was but I already didn't like her.

"Miranda," I said slowly. "You never told me you had a sister, Johnny." He was silent. "Cousin?" Still silent. "Niece? Half-sister? Aunt?" For Miranda's sake, Johnny better have been related to this girl. If she wasn't, I might be inclined to yank her off of him by her hair.

"Miranda's a friend from high school," Johnny said. Miranda sat up, shaking her head.

"PJ and I used to date when we were teenagers," she said. Saw that one coming.

"Oh," I said in a deadpan tone. "High school sweethearts. How adorable." Johnny mouthed the words _I'm sorry _to me. I shrugged. Miranda must have seen that I was annoyed by the current topic of our conversation because she quickly changed the subject.

"Well, tell me what's going on with you," she said, turning to Johnny. She held his forearm in her hands. "How's the show going? How's Naomi?" I chuckled, sliding back in the booth. This was going to be entertaining.

"I'm good," Johnny started, nodding his head. "The show's good. Naomi's good. We…uh…decided to end things a few months ago, though." I laughed as Miranda's cheeks flushed red.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she began. Johnny shook his head.

"Don't be," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Everything turned out good." When Johnny turned back to me, I was shooting him the coldest look I could muster. He took his hand off of her.

"That's good," she said. "Probably happened for the best anyway. You've got your career going Can't have a relationship weighing you down." Johnny looked at me with wide eyes.

"Yeah, Johnny," I snickered. "You like being single, don't you?"

"No," he replied, almost frantically. "I'm hoping to get a girlfriend who won't kill me when bad shit happens that is totally not my fault." He smiled at me faintly. I laughed.

"I think you'll find one, Knox," I said, grinning.

"I don't know," he said. "After Naomi, I've become pretty picky. I wouldn't date a girl who doesn't have it all. I'll only date a girl if she was gorgeous and smart. And she has to be able to make me laugh. I'll want a perfect ten." I bit my bottom lip, holding back a smile. I found it hard to believe that someone thought so highly of me. I didn't even think that highly of me. I would never understand why he loved me so much.

"A perfect ten? Well, you're going to be looking for awhile, PJ," Miranda said. My eyes flickered back to her. _Oh yeah, she's still here…_

"I don't think so," he said, winking at me when Miranda wasn't looking.

"God, PJ," Miranda sighed. "Always looking for girls. Just like when we were in high school." A smile appeared on my lips. This chick had to have some dirt on Johnny, and if she did, she should feel obliged to share the information with me.

"Ooh, tell me about it," I said. Johnny's eyes went wide and he began to shake his head.

"No need to do that," he began. "The past is the past…"

"Oh, come on PJ," Miranda said, slapping his arm. "You weren't _too _bad. Just your typical jock…" I smiled, crossing my arms. Johnny squirmed in his seat. I wasn't too excited about meeting one of Johnny's ex-girlfriends, but if I had to have to, I could at least try to make the experience extremely uncomfortable for him.

"You know, we really don't have to bring up—"

"Yes we do," I said. "Embarrass him, Miranda." The brunette chuckled.

"No," she said, smiling and shaking her head. "He was great. I don't have one bad thing to say about him." Johnny her both chuckled, glancing at each other. I felt a pang of jealousy in my stomach.

"Don't try to flatter me," Johnny said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not," Miranda said, placing her hand on his. "PJ was such a sweetheart when we were dating," she said, turning to me. "He'd open doors and pull out chairs. Always a gentleman. Lemoyne raised you right, huh PJ?" Johnny chuckled, looking back at her. It wasn't just a glance. It wasn't like he was just acknowledging her. _They were having a moment. _I gritted my teeth tightly, feeling bitter. He could flirt if he wanted to, he could hit on girls if he felt like it—I didn't fucking care. But sit here and reminisce with his ex-girlfriend about how perfect their relationship was? I didn't think so.

"Why'd you two break up?" I hissed between gritted teeth. "Sounds like you two should be married by now…" Johnny sensed my anger but Miranda didn't seem to get it.

"PJ was moving and I was staying in Tennessee," she said. "Long distance relationships don't usually work out." I groaned. I thought that maybe bringing up their breakup would stir up some bad blood between the two, but no. If he never moved, they probably would be fucking married.

"Sounds like she's the one that got away, _PJ_," I murmured, causing Johnny to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He looked at me, not knowing what to say. I didn't know what to say, either. Miranda sure as hell didn't know what to say. An awkward silence fell on the table.

During that silence, I felt really stupid. There was no other way to put it. Being around Johnny and his family and old friends, I got this strong feeling that I didn't belong. That I wasn't wanted. I felt it and I know Johnny felt it too. I thought coming to Tennessee would help our relationship, but I was beginning to second guess that decision. I thought that being in the tabloids and in the media was destroying my relationship with him, but maybe it was fueling it. Maybe the fact that everyone was saying we were dating made it seem like we were right for each other when actually weren't. I felt sick. What had I been thinking these past few months? Why would someone like him date someone like me? He was the type of guy that was destined to have some trophy wife that would clean his house and cook his meals. He needed a Miranda or a Naomi, not an Alex.

"I'll be right back," I said, standing up from my seat. "I need a cigarette."

"Alex…" Johnny said, looking up at me with sad eyes.

"I'll be right back," I repeated. "Catch up with your friend." He sighed. I left the building. I needed some air. I needed to think. I didn't want to think. I was beyond confused.

I sat down on the curb outside the bar. I lit a cigarette, deciding that I didn't want to think about relationships anymore. Everyone says love isn't supposed to be easy, but what the hell? This wasn't just uneasy. It wasn't even difficult. It was painstakingly hard. It was consuming my mind. It was making me question my actions and my decisions and I hated this feeling of uncertainty. I just wanted to be sure that I was doing the right thing. I thought that Johnny and I were right together. It felt right. But if it was right than why was everyone and everything telling me that we were wrong for each other. Naomi. Johnny's mom. The way he looked at Miranda. How could I compete? Why should I compete?

I smoked a lot. I was sucking on my third cigarette when Johnny came out and sat down beside me. He didn't talk at first. He put his arm around my waste and I just kept smoking.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked. I thought about it while I took another drag. I wasn't mad at him. He didn't do anything wrong. He did everything right. I was mad at myself, I guess. I was mad at myself for not being able to trust myself. I was mad at myself for not being able to swallow my pride and make my relationship with him work. I was just mad.

"No, babe," I said, putting my cigarette out on the asphalt ground. He stroked my back and I laid my head on his shoulder where Miranda's head had been moments earlier. I didn't think about that though. When I was close to him I felt a sense of comfort that I could not deny. I heard Johnny exhale as I laid against him. I wondered if he felt as relieved as I did.

"I love you," he whispered, holding me. "You know that, don't you?" I didn't respond for awhile. I knew he said it a lot. I knew he said he meant it. I still found it so hard to believe, though. Why would he settle for someone like me? Miranda was gorgeous. She was a college graduate. She was charming and sweet and so many things that I would never be. I felt so inadequate compared to her. How could he look at her and still be happy with me?

"Why do you love me?" I replied. "Why not Naomi or Miranda or any other girl?" Johnny sighed, thinking about it.

"Alex, you can't compare yourself to them," he said. "They aren't like you. Al…you understand me better me than any other girl could. You are a part of such a big chunk of my life…" I bit my lip. "None of my ex-girlfriends have anything you don't have. They don't have anything you would want. And I know things are hard right now, but they'll get easier." I chuckled, leaning against him.

"You promise?" I asked.

"Pinky swear," he said, wrapping his pinky around mine. He laughed and kissed the side of my head. "Come on. It's late. Let's get out of here."

We walked over to the rental car, not speaking. Johnny opened the door of the car for me and I felt a lump in my throat. I wasn't sure why.

"You want to stay at a motel tonight?" Johnny asked before we drove off. "Things are weird at home. If you don't want to stay there I understand. We can—"

"No," I said. "I don't think I am going to win points with your mom if I do that."

"Don't try to win points with her," he said. "She'll love you once she gets to know you." I sighed, wondering how long he was going to keep telling me that. "Come on, Al. All she knows about you is what she's read in those damn tabloids."

"But those stories are true for the most part," I said.

"We all make mistakes."

"Well I'm a walking talking mistake," I snickered. "I've been fucking things up for people for many years, Johnny. I think I've got it down to an art."

"You're so cynical," he said.

"I'm realistic."

"You're wrong," Johnny said. "I don't know what else to do for you, Al. I want to make this life easy for you. I'd do anything. You know I would. But there isn't much I can do. Gossip magazines are going to print shit about you. It's not going to stop. This is still new to you. You'll get used to it."

"Everyone says that," I replied, resting my head against the window. "The interviewing process is still new to you, Alex. You'll get used to it. The filming schedule is new to you, Al. You'll get used to it. I really don't know if I'm going to get used to it."

"Well it's not optional anymore," he said sternly. "To all the people reading those articles about you and to all those people who ask for pictures and autographs, you are nothing but a character. Someone they see on TV and they expect to act a certain way. There is an ugly stigma hanging over your name, Al. It isn't fair that it's like this, but it is. And the sooner you accept the fact that not everyone is going to like you or what you do, the easier it's going to be…"

"It's not everyone that I am concerned with," I said. "I only care about what a few people think. You, the guys, your family…"

"Then why are we doing this, Alex?" he said. "Why are we hiding our relationship from everyone? I'm sick of only being able to put my arm around you when I know no one is looking. I just want things to be normal." I felt terrible. Everything in our relationship was always about me. What I wanted to do. Where I wanted to go. Who I wanted to know about us. It wasn't fair to Johnny at all.

"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice. I didn't know why I was so hesitant to tell people about our relationship. Sure, I didn't want to be scrutinized by the media, but God, weren't they already scrutinizing me? And I didn't want the guys to see me differently, but did I honestly believe that things would change if the guys knew? Ryan knew and he seemed to take it well. So if neither of those things were bothering me, than why did I continue to hide my relationship with Johnny? I had no idea.

"No," Johnny said. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. I just…I don't know. I don't understand why we are still trying to hide the fact that we are together. I get that it would have been hard a few months ago, and I get that it will be hard whenever we decide to tell everyone, but I am getting to the point where I don't care whether or not people approve of us. The guys are going to be dicks about it, but they'll get over it. I just want us to be a normal, happy couple. I don't think the guys will begrudge us of that. And even they do, who cares? You are more important to me than anyone's opinion." I felt incredibly guilty. All he did was sacrifice things for me. And I couldn't do the one thing he wanted me to do more than anything: be completely honest. I had been so selfish, but not anymore. I loved him and if I wanted to have a successful relationship with him I would have to consider what he had to say. And right now, he was making a lot of sense.

"I'll do it," I said. Johnny stared at me with surprised eyes. "I'll tell the guys about us. I…I don't care about what they think. I don't care what anyone thinks." I looked back at him. He smiled. "I love you, Johnny. I'll do anything to make this work."

"We'll do it together," he said, putting his hand on my thigh. "Dunn already knows. And I'm sure the guys are beginning to put things together for themselves. We left the country together. The media is constantly talking about us. They have to at least have an idea of what is going on…" I nodded, suddenly realizing what I just said I'd do. I was going to tell the guys about Johnny and me. _Oh shit. _Johnny must have seen the concerned look on my face because he suddenly began to try and comfort me. "Baby, if you aren't ready to do this—"

"No," I said. "We can't lie any longer. If we don't do it now, we're never going to do it. Next time we are all together, we have to tell them." Johnny nodded. As badly as it scared me to think that we were finally going to come clean about what we had been hiding for so long, I knew it was the right thing to do. "And besides, if anyone should be nervous about telling the guys, it should be you."

"I know," Johnny said. "Steve is going to be so jealous. He might try to kill me—"

"Oh, shut up," I groaned.

"You know, I think that's why you don't want to tell the guys," he said, laughing. "Once they know we're dating, they're not going to hit on you anymore…"

"Oh yeah, you are so right," I said, speaking sarcastically. "I love when the guys hit on me. Bam, Chris, Steve…they're all real gentlemen." Johnny chuckled.

"You love them," he said. "They're our family."

"And you don't get to choose family," I said. "You just have to deal with them." Johnny laughed, agreeing. So maybe I was going to have to tell the guys about Johnny and me. Maybe they'd treat me differently afterwards, maybe they wouldn't. I didn't know. But no matter what, at least I'd have Johnny. I hoped that this was the right thing for me to do because honestly, I didn't think I had any other options. I had to tell the guys and I had to tell them soon.


End file.
